Past and Present Danger
by laurajslr
Summary: Unable to match Merlin's power, Morgana tries to take her revenge by killing Arthur and Merlin as children. But when her plan goes awry, King and Warlock must find a way of correcting time before their past, and present, disappear altogether.
1. Chapter 1

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Set about two years after the end of series four.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Bright light, brighter than anything he'd seen before, tearing through the air like a knife. Morgana's eyes, glowing gold as she clutched an amulet in white-knuckled hands. The concentration was so intense that she seemed to shudder with it, her whole body trembling. A low, aching note began to grow, weaving through the air as if the very foundations of the earth were crying out.

_Merlin!_

Shaken by the dream as he was, Merlin almost cried out in fear as Kilgharrah's panicked voice reverberated round his mind like a drum. He put his hands over his ears to try and block out the sound, which of course was useless, but the voice had quietened now that Merlin was awake. Rubbing his eyes to try and clear them, Merlin realised that he was sitting up in his bed, although he didn't remember doing so, and his covers clung to him, covered in sweat. Only now did he feel the breeze chilling him as it touched on the moisture that covered his skin. His breathing was quick and shallow and a sense of desperation seemed to be pressing in on him from all sides, but he didn't know what had caused it.

_Merlin,_ the dragon's voice called again, more quietly this time, but with no less desperation than before.

_What is it? What's happening?_

_Morgana is wielding powerful and dangerous magic. I sensed it, even from many leagues off. She is close. You must act young warlock. Now!_

Peeling back his covers, Merlin ran to the window which looked over Camelot's outskirts. When he had moved quarters –a privilege for those who were members of the court- he had asked for two things: to be close to Arthur's room and to have a room which looked out over as much of Camelot as was possible. Arthur had agreed to both requests and as such, when Merlin looked out of his window, not only could he see the forest that bordered Camelot to the west, but he could also see for miles across the northern plains. Now as he looked out, his breath caught in his throat. In the forest, several miles in, an unearthly and wholly unsettling glow was beginning to pour out over the tops of the trees, like lava from a volcano shooting into the air, but in slow motion, so slow in fact, that the light didn't seem to be moving, but Merlin could sense it, sense a power that was beginning to grow. He could feel the first tremors of it in the very depth of his magic, like a humming in the back of his mind that was only going to get louder and more violent.

Tearing his eyes away from the scene, he raced across his room, throwing on clothes and boots. In less than a minute he had bolted out of his door and was racing down the corridor. At this time of night, the castle was all but deserted, save for the guards that stood watch outside Arthur and Gwen's room. Their heads turned at the sound of him racing towards them, but their faces showed no shock or surprise and they made no attempt to stop or question Merlin as he barged into the King and Queen's room with no explanation. Merlin was both relieved and unnerved by their lack of response: how many times had he done this now that even Camelot's guards didn't bat an eyelid as their King's chambers were invaded?

'Arthur!' Merlin shouted as he flung open the door. It banged into the wardrobe that stood behind it with a deafening crash and both Gwen and Arthur physically jumped as they were jolted from their sleep. In less than a second Arthur was standing by the bed, sword having been drawn from where it had been in its holster attached to the bed post, while Gwen looked around in utter panic. Arthur squinted at him, seemingly trying to shake of the last vestiges of sleep as he struggled to identify whoever had just flown into his room. Merlin took several steps forward. 'Arthur,' he repeated. With a dramatic sigh, Arthur's body relaxed and he lowered his sword, putting his head back and rubbing his face with his free hand.

'Merlin, how many times do I have to ask you not to fling open the door shout me out of sleep in the middle of the night?'

'Sorry, but I-'

'You're sorry are you?' he asked, irony in his tone. 'Is that more or less sorry than last time?' He turned away for a moment and went and sat on the bed next to Gwen. 'Are you alright?' It was only then that Merlin noticed that the stricken expression on Gwen's face had not changed. She swallowed painfully and then nodded slowly.

'Sorry, Gwen,' Merlin muttered, genuine guilt in his tone this time.

'No Merlin, it's fine. What is it?' she asked sitting up in bed and drawing her knees up to her chest.

'There's something wrong, it's Morgana; she's doing something, something big and terrible. I can sense it.' As if on cue, the magic hum that had been pervading his consciousness since he woke suddenly increased marginally. Putting his hand to his head, Merlin staggered back slightly, the sudden shift catching him off guard.

'Merlin,' Arthur asked; concern in his voice now.

'I'm fine, but we have to go now. I'll get the horses,' Merlin called, already heading out the door.

'No, get a servant to do it, then you can tell me what you know,' Arthur called, already searching for items of clothing. Merlin stopped and turned at the door.

'I barely know anything, and what I do I can tell you on the way. Besides, I always was your best servant.' He watched Arthur's face change from focus to mild amusement, before racing out the door and down to the stables.

* * *

><p>By the time Arthur raced down the stone steps into the courtyard, in full armour, with Excalibur, as always, by his side, Merlin was bringing their horses across the cobbles, their hooves echoing loudly off the stone in the quietness of the night. He passed the reigns of Arthur's horse to the King who quickly swung himself up and onto the bay stallion. The creature had been a loyal and faithful horse to Arthur for many years now and Merlin had not hesitated in choosing him over the other horses. Merlin had, as always, taken his horse, Halesha, whom had been gifted to him by Arthur just over eighteen months ago, on being appointed Court Sorcerer. She was a beautiful chestnut mare, with a gentle but determined spirit. Merlin found it easy to talk to her with magic, making her faithful to his every command. He swung himself up onto her saddle and nodded to Arthur.<p>

'Are you ready?'

'For what, Merlin? You haven't told me anything,' Arthur snapped in frustration. Merlin ignored the tone, knowing that it was directed at the situation and not him. 'Honestly, will you ever let me ride into a situation with full awareness of what to expect?' Maybe it was partly directed at him.

'Come on, I'll explain as we go.'

They galloped out of the courtyard, the guards moving aside instantly. It was not unusual to see the King and his Sorcerer disappearing at any time of the day or night without warning. Merlin set the direction, turning towards the west as soon as they were out of the town walls.

'Look!' he pointed. Arthur's gaze moved in the direction that Merlin indicated and Merlin felt the King's confusion. Up ahead, the light that Merlin had spied from his window was beginning to climb higher, growing in intensity as it did. It was almost like a sunrise, but the darkness of the night which surrounded it on every side soon dispelled the comparison.

'What is it?'

'I don't know.'

'Merlin!' Arthur snapped. Merlin nodded his assent and quickly detailed Arthur on the events of his dream, the feel of the magic that he could sense and Kilgharrah's warning. All the while they raced closer and closer to the light. Merlin knew where it was coming from; a clearing that he had often used to speak with Kilgharrah before Arthur had known about his magic and also in the following six months when he had, for all intents and purposes been hiding to avoid execution at Arthur's command. He shuddered when he considered those long weeks. They had been the worst of his life.

Their conversation died down and Merlin took the opportunity to recall as many spells as he could that might possibly counteract whatever it was that Morgana was doing. He was only faintly aware of the trees that swept by him and the rush of the wind on his face. Halesha guided them through the maze of the forest with ease, her sense of direction and understanding of their destination enhanced and strengthened with magic.

They were still a few minutes away when the light up ahead, which was now filling the sky and making their night trek through the forest look more like an approaching dawn, suddenly blazed like the sun. Both horses reared at the sudden change and Merlin struggled to stay on his steed as images suddenly shot through his head with such intensity that it hurt. He cried out and it took all his will power not to let go of the reigns and clutch at his head. He delved into himself and drew his magic forward to try and help him slow the onslaught of images and make sense of them. It barely did anything, but the pain lessened enough for him to focus. He opened his eyes, seeing gold as his magic continued to flow through him. In front, he could just make out Arthur calming both horses and calling out to him, but he was helpless to respond, completely encapsulated by the images that were flowing through his head.

They were mostly familiar: people and places and situation that he had been in, mostly with Arthur, but it was as if he was seeing them from his own point of view and Arthur's at the same time. He watched each scene as if he was in two places. He watched the last eighteen months roll through his mind at breakneck speed, in reverse order, all the while seeing what he saw and what Arthur saw. It was so fast that he could barely make out what was happening, and some things he didn't recognise. Frowning in confusion and horror he relived his six months of exile in the blink of an eye, while at the same time seeing Arthur's anger and sense of betrayal at that time. His magic being revealed, Morgana trying to take Camelot, Uther's death, Gaius, the knights, the magical beasts that had plagued the city, his arrival in Camelot, Ealdor, training with knights, gathering crops, royal banquets, playing with Will, fighting with other noble children, his mother, servants doing whatever was asked of them and then blinding light once again.

With a gasp he came out of his trance to hear Arthur's irritated voice.

'...you hear me? Merlin, come on. I need you to focus.'

'Arthur?' Merlin asked, breathing heavily as he tried to gather his thoughts. It felt like his mind was still going in reverse. 'We need-' but he was cut off again as the light brightened further and the true intention of Morgana's enchantment seeped into the magic all around him. His head was thrown back as the revelation stormed through his magic and the danger of what she was attempting hit him.

'Merlin!' Arthur shouted, angry now. Merlin blinked and refocused.

'She's going to kill us,' he whispered.

'That's not possible,' Arthur replied slowly, evidently trying to calm Merlin. 'You've made sure that we're both protected against any magic she tries to use against us. Everything I'm wearing has an enchantment on it Merlin, and you've placed what feels like hundreds of wards on me.'

'You don't understand. Now you're protected, but you weren't then.'

'What?'

Merlin looked up at the light and spurred Halesha on once again, giving speed to both her and Arthur's horse with a few words. He glanced back at Arthur.

'I know what she's doing. She's opening up a doorway to the past, Arthur. She's going to kill us when we were children.'

Merlin didn't wait for Arthur's response to the comment; he only knew that he had to get there quickly. He could sense the world ahead of him beginning to tear open and had to fight the fear that swelled up into him at the sensation. Morgana was messing with something far more complex and volatile than she could possibly control. Any misjudgement on her part could destroy everything, not just from the present day, but also stretching back into history. How could she possibly have done it? What secrets had she unlocked and found; what desperation had driven her to do something so incredibly reckless? Merlin could feel the possibilities shuddering through the air around him. Even the old magic was crying out against her actions. He had to stop her. Something bothered him though. Morgana's choice of location, didn't make sense. Why would she open a doorway so close to Camelot, so close to where she knew Merlin was? She knew that he was much more powerful than her; surely she wouldn't risk her plan failing because Merlin arrived before she'd finished.

But when Merlin finally cleared the trees he knew exactly why Morgana had chosen somewhere close by. It was so that he _would_ get there in time, so that he _could_ see it happening, because he knew instantly that he would never be able to close the gap now that she had opened it. It would bow only to her wishes, and it drew power from the very magic of the air. She had gained control of the magical elements, a task that couldn't have been easy and had no doubt damaged her.

Devastated by the understanding that he could do nothing to stop Morgana, Merlin initially failed to react to the intense brightness that encompassed the entire clearing. The light felt like it was burning into his eyes and so he muttered a few words to help his eyes adjust and then did the same for Halesha.

Behind him, Arthur broke from the cover of the trees, his arm flying up to shield his eyes instantly. Merlin reached out a hand and repeated the spell twice more for the King and his horse.

'You can see now,' he told him as he dismounted.

'Merlin, I've told you not to perform spells on me before you've told me what they are,' jumping down to the ground lightly.

'I've filtered the light,' Merlin explained quietly, not turning to look at Arthur.

'Well we're here, Merlin. What can you do?' Merlin looked across the clearing. The light, which he had assumed before arrival was coming up from the ground, actually began about a metre or so in the air, as if a blanket of light was being held out by invisible hands. The light itself, seemed to writhe in agony, but he soon noticed that the different shades of yellow and blue and green -for those were the colours he could see- were twisting continually into different shapes; shapes that he recognised: places and buildings and people. It was filtering through time, sifting each moment until it found the right one. He couldn't see Morgana, but he sensed that she was nearby -in the trees on the opposite side of the clearing.

'Merlin, what do we need to do?'

He shook his head, unwilling to look at Arthur, looking frantically around for something, anything that could help, but there was nothing. He felt Arthur's hand fall heavily on his shoulder and spin him round until they were facing each other.

'What do we need to do?' he asked slowly, firmly, pronouncing every word with precision.

'There isn't anything we can do. It's too powerful, I can't stop it.'

'Merlin, you've proven time and time again that you are more powerful than Morgana, you can-'

'But it's not just her magic that she's using. She's drawing it from the earth and air, from everywhere.'

'Then do the same.'

'I can't. It would take months of attuning myself to natural magic, learning how to wield its power.'

'Then attack Morgana.'

'She's protected herself. I can sense it.'

'Merlin,' Arthur said, his voice loud and angry. 'You just said that she's going to kill us when we were children. What happens if she succeeds?'

Merlin looked at Arthur. He hesitated, but Arthur's intense gaze cut through the silence.

'We won't exist anymore. Anything that we changed or caused in our lives and the lives of other won't have happened. We'll be dead and no-one will even know that we were alive past the age that Morgana kills us.'

Arthur just stared at him, unable to take in what was being said. His face was completely still, a quiet desperation in his eyes, the only indication of the turmoil that was going on in his head.

'I'm sorry Arthur.'

'No, I won't accept that. Find a way, now! As your King, I order you.'

'Arthur-'

'Merlin, we can not let this happen.'

'I can't stop it.'

'Then do something else, change her plans. You protect us from her now, why can't you protect our younger selves when she finds them?'

As if on cue, the light suddenly stilled in its shifting to capture perfectly, and with much more clarity, the images of two young children, unmistakably Arthur and Merlin.

'She's found us,' Merlin whispered. As he spoke, the light shrank in on itself, shrinking until it was a sphere, only a few metres in diameter, with the still images of the children contained within it, shining brightly. Without warning, Morgana's voice suddenly echoed across the clearing, infused with magic. Merlin couldn't understand all that she was saying, but as she spoke, the light began to seep into the two children and they faded until their colouring looked remarkably life like. Their features softened and began to grow in dimension, while all the while a thin veil of light made up the skin of the sphere.

'Merlin, look.' Merlin tore his gaze from the children to the other side of the clearing where Morgana was now walking. She was covered in a similar veil to the one the two children were in and her eyes were fixed upon them, like a predator on its prey. By now the children seemed to have formed fully. They were moving in the sphere, pressing against the sides in desperation. Confusion riddled their faces as they looked and saw Morgana. They both shrank back as she drew nearer, but the sphere's limits stopped them from escaping.

'You have to do something. She's nearly reached them.' Arthur was right. Morgana had raised her hand and the skin of the bubble began to press outwards, heading towards the sphere that held the two boys. With a yell, Arthur unsheathed Excalibur and ran towards them. He swung his sword against Morgana's veil, but the swing was stopped as if the sword had hit an impenetrable surface. The jolt sent Arthur staggering back, a yell of pain being torn from his lips as he clutched his arm.

All three occupants of the veil looked over; the boys in sheer terror -their mouths open with screams that couldn't be heard- and Morgana with smug confidence.

Merlin ran forward until he was by Arthur's side. He held out his hand and tried anything he could think of to break the connection; to send the boys back, even as Morgana's sphere drew ever closer to the boys'. Nothing worked. He screamed out anything he could think of, his eyes constantly blazing gold, but nothing had any effect. The skin of the sphere was now only inches away from making contact.

'She's going to reach them,' Arthur told him.

'There's nothing I can do.'

'There has to be,' he growled. 'Protect them from her. You've done it for us, do it for them.'

'She's powerful, Arthur. What she'll throw at them…it would take months for me to put any protection in place.'

'But that's us. She's going to kill us,' Arthur told him, quietly, desperately, shock making the words less than a whisper. Merlin froze.

'That's it!' he cried. 'They're us. That's it; they're us.' Turning away from an utterly confused Arthur, Merlin drew his magic up from inside him. The spheres had nearly connected; there couldn't be more than a few seconds left. Summoning as much power as he could, Merlin pointed one hand at Arthur and turned his thoughts in on himself. Both he and Arthur began to glow with the gold light of magic, almost as if it was evaporating out of them. It looked like golden steam rising from their bodies. Within the spheres the occupants observed the new happenings. Their young selves looked just as terrified as before, but now Morgana's face, too, was edged with terror. She looked between the past and present versions of Arthur and Merlin and realisation moulded her features. Rage twisted her face into a sneer, but her resolve only seemed to strengthen. She closed her eyes and with a final leap the spheres connected.

Simultaneously, Morgana and Merlin launched everything they could at the two boys. Morgana's ice blue magic shot towards them, terrifying in its power, while Merlin threw the golden magic, which had risen from himself and Arthur directly at the boys. This time the magic flew effortlessly through the orb. It longed to be with the person it had been placed on to protect, regardless of what time they came from.

Merlin had a split second to notice the gold envelop the boys, before an earth shuddering explosion seemed to fill the clearing. Morgana's magic had rebounded off Merlin's, shattering her concentration and attacking her woth as much force as she had tried to attack the boys. Merlin felt himself being lifted of his feet and thrown back several metres, Arthur in a similar situation beside him. Through the haze of magic, he saw Morgana disappear, screaming in agony, as she used magic to escape the clearing. After that he saw nothing as his head connected with the rough bark of a tree.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for the reviews, they were much appreciated. Just to say that I don't have a set time for updating, it will really depend on what's going on. But I know how annoying it is when you have to wait weeks for updates, so I will aim, as far as I can, to update at least once a week. Enjoy the next chapter and reviews would be lovely.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Merlin was aware that his head hurt before he was aware of anything else. It felt like there was a torch alight in his mind, burning through his thoughts and memories. He winced and gasped as he moved slightly, but was relieved to feel the pain lessening somewhat. With that sensation diminished, he was able to take in his surroundings more fully. He knew that he was not comfortable, that was for sure. His back felt like it was resting on a tree root, making it arch unnaturally and as he reached his hand behind his head, he felt something sticky matting his hair. He groaned and slowly rolled onto his front, his back screaming protest.

He pushed himself up with his hands, feeling the damp ground beneath him, smelling the grass as it brushed along his arms. Finally he opened his eyes to find himself in the clearing. Morgana was nowhere to be seen -he fleetingly remembered her vanishing after her spell had back fired- and the clearing was empty of any light or doorway to the past as far as Merlin could tell. The spheres that had held her and the young versions of himself and Arthur were gone and, from what he could make out in the moonlight, the horses were standing in the middle of the clearing eating grass. He admired their loyalty to their respective masters.

Casting about the ground, he spotted Arthur lying someway over to his right, looking equally uncomfortable in the position he had landed, but Merlin was reassured by the steady rise and fall of the King's chest. As quickly as he could, which wasn't very fast due to how disorientated he felt, Merlin moved over until he was at Arthur's side, shaking him gently.

'Arthur,' he whispered. The man didn't move for a few seconds, but on being shaken again, his eyes opened with a stifled groan. He opened his mouth to say something but gasped in pain as he tried to sit up. After taking a few moments to remain still, he tried again.

'What did you do?' he asked sharply.

'Things never change do they? A thank you would be nice.'

'Thank you for what? For getting me thrown into a tree; for setting off an explosion?' Arthur looked at him incredulously. He began to shake his head, but seemed to think better of and settled instead for glaring at Merlin.

'For stopping Morgana from killing us both.'

'Oh,' Arthur said, as if everything had become clear, 'so that's what you did. Sorry, I must've missed that when my back impacted with a tree.' He pushed himself to his feet, slowly, but with determination. 'Honestly, Merlin. There was no point saving our younger selves if you were just going to kill us in the present anyway.'

'You are so ungrateful,' Merlin muttered as he allowed Arthur to help him up as well until they were both standing, albeit doubled over and grimacing in pain.

'So what did you do?' Arthur asked, more gently this time.

'Oh, you've finished insulting me have you? Want to know the rest of the story, now?' He sighed and shook his head indignantly. The petty side of him wanted to just leave the King guessing, but he had spent so long having to hide the fact that he had saved the day in the past that now he couldn't resist letting people know when he had.

'Yes actually. Are our young selves…?'

'Safe? Yes,' Merlin nodded with confidence. 'Back in their own times, probably a little confused as to what happened. But apart from that fine. I'll be helping my mother around the house doing the chores. You'll be…' he faltered and stood up straight, 'ordering servants around, beating up other rich children and being told how wonderful you are.'

'Do you really think that's what I did when I was a child?' Arthur asked straightening up and looking at Merlin like he was an idiot.

'Enlighten me then: what did you do?' Merlin couldn't help the grin from creeping onto his face as he watched Arthur open his mouth to answer before very quickly closing it again, evidently finding nothing to counter Merlin's guesses. Merlin gave him a few more seconds to come up with some other less obnoxious activities that he took part in as a child, but nothing was forthcoming. 'Like I said,' Merlin continued, 'ordering servants around, beating up other rich children and being told how wonderful you are.'

'Shut up, Merlin.'

'Don't you want to hear the rest?'

'Not if you're going to be this cocky.'

'I learnt from the best,' Merlin replied. Arthur gave him a withering look. 'Anyway…it was you that gave me the idea. You reminded me about all the protective charms I've put on us over the last year and a half. I didn't have time to put any onto our young selves, but magic sort of…' he cast about trying to think of an explanation, '..adheres to a person, it can recognise individuals, that doesn't fade over time. So I just transferred our enchantments onto our young selves. The sphere let the magic through because it wasn't attacking it in any way.'

'So when Morgana tried to kill them with a spell-'

'Our young selves were protected against it. The spell backfired on Morgana, shattering her concentration so that she couldn't sustain the doorway anymore, meaning that the link to the past was cut and everyone ended up back where they should be.'

Merlin grinned as he finished, awaiting Arthur's response. The King looked wholly unimpressed.

'I suppose you want praise for that do you?' Merlin's grin faltered and he frowned.

'Well it wouldn't kill you to be a bit grateful.' Arthur held his gaze for several seconds before his face smoothed out and he gave Merlin a warm smile.

'Well done, my friend. You've saved us again.' He put a hand on Merlin's shoulder and squeezed it before patting him on the back. 'Let's go home.' They walked over to where the horses were grazing. 'What of Morgana?'

'From what I saw,' Merlin replied, 'she hit herself with a very powerful spell; she didn't look happy or healthy when she disappeared.'

'So we don't have to worry about her for now?'

'No, which is a good thing considering that we don't have any magical protection on us at the moment,' Merlin smiled. Arthur stopped dead in his tracks, pulling Merlin to a stop beside him.

'What?'

'Well…' Merlin frowned at him, wasn't it obvious? 'I just told you I put all our enchantments onto our younger selves. The magic was completely transferred. Don't worry though, I'll just start again. I'll do it now if you want.' He held out his hand towards Arthur.

_'Forbecce innanearm fram bealusíð.'_

'No, Merlin-' Arthur gave a sigh and let him finish.

'What? Might as well start as soon as possible.'

'What are we meant to do until then? I assume Morgana knows what you did.'

'Probably.'

'Well what if she chooses to attack?'

'Arthur, she was so weak. I don't think she'll be doing anything of much power for a while. Besides I'll put enough wards in place that if she does try anything –and it'll be weak whatever it is- they'll keep us from harm for now,' Merlin assured him. Arthur nodded. Merlin grinned at him.

'What now?' Arthur asked in exasperation.

'Who'd have thought that one day you'd be terrified at the prospect of not having magic spells on you.'

'I am not terrified,' Arthur told him, snatching the reigns that Merlin was holding out to him and swinging up into the saddle. 'I just want to make sure our defences are sound.'

'Whatever you say, Sire.' Merlin murmured. Arthur heard him and clipped him on the back of the head as he got into his saddle.

'Ow,' Merlin winced as Arthur's hand connected with his injury. He turned round to see Arthur staring at the blood on his hand and looking relatively apologetic.

'You'll have to get Gaius to take a look at that when we get back,' he said as way of apology.

'Thanks for that Arthur, that hadn't crossed my mind at all,' he returned, still scowling as he clicked Halesha into a slow trot. It didn't take long for him to forget his irritation, however, as thoughts of the night's events took his attention.

'I'll have to work out how she did all this,' Merlin called to Arthur, his eyes on the trees up ahead. 'She must have been planning for months.' He frowned as he considered what the spell must have involved. Not only had she found away of pushing through time, but she'd also managed to use natural magic to highly enhance her own. Merlin had never tried anything like that; that sort of magic was too changeable, to foreign, compared to how sorcerers used magic.

'Merlin.'

'Don't worry, I'll figure it out,' Merlin assured him.

'Merlin,' Arthur called again. 'You said that everybody was back in the right time.'

'I know, beating up rich children, orderin-'

'Merlin!' This time it was a yell and Merlin pulled Halesha to a stop. He turned to look back and saw that Arthur hadn't moved; he wasn't even facing the way they were going. In confusion, Merlin cantered back to where Arthur sat on his horse, watching some spot off to the left. 'You said that everybody was back in the right place and time.'

'Which they are,' Merlin replied. 'Arthur what-' But then he saw what had so captured the King's attention. On the edge of the clearing, but gradually stumbling closer, were two children, the same two children that had been floating a metre above the ground in a sphere not long ago, the same two children that Merlin had seen in the vision that had consumed him as he got closer to the clearing, the same two children that Morgana had just tried to kill. Arthur turned to look at him, disbelief and fury in his eyes.

'Then who the hell are they?' Even Merlin couldn't bring himself to reply with a witty comment.

'This isn't good,' he whispered.

* * *

><p>Arthur resisted the very strong urge he had to knock Merlin off his horse there and then, injured or not, and just be done with it. Yes, admittedly, he had just saved both their lives and their entire histories, but there were limits to what Arthur could put up with from Merlin's magic, and seeing two children walking towards him, who most definitely were not meant to be here and who most definitely were the younger versions of himself and Merlin was cutting it pretty close to what Arthur could put up with.<p>

'Merlin,' he growled through his teeth. Merlin at least had the sense to look sheepish.

'Sire, I-'

'Don't,' Arthur warned him.

'What?'

'Do not start calling me, Sire, because then I know it's bad.'

'Arthur,' Merlin began again, swallowing loudly. 'I'm not sure exactly how…' he began to tail off and Arthur fixed him with what he hoped was a murderous stare. From the way Merlin shrank back slightly he was sure he had achieved his goal.

Arthur glanced up again and saw, to his dismay, that the children had spotted them. From this distance and in the dull light, it was impossible to tell which child was which, but a few seconds later one of them began to make straight for them.

'Here you come,' Merlin whispered.

'You can't tell if that's me or you.'

'Trust me, that child walking towards us with his head in the air and swinging his arms is you.'

'In case you hadn't noticed, you swing your arms a lot more than I do when you walk,' Arthur retorted, realising how pathetic his words sounded.

'Yes, but I don't walk up to complete strangers, at night, in the middle of nowhere when I'm six years old. I stand back and wait to see what happens,' he replied, raising his hand and pointing at the second boy, who had only moved a few faltering steps closer.

'Have you always been such a wimp?' Arthur asked him pointedly.

'Have you always been such an arrogant prat?' Merlin snapped back just as quickly. Arthur shook his head.

'What are we going to do Merlin? If they're here, now, then what about our past? What happens to the last twenty odd years?'

'I don't know-'

'Who are you?' a small, but defiant voice interrupted. Both Arthur and Merlin turned their attention to the young boy in front of them, who was undoubtedly Arthur junior. Arthur couldn't help the strange chill that swept over him at the sight of himself from all those years ago. The boy was still several steps away, but his arm was raised, pointing accusingly at Merlin and then Arthur. He was confident, that was for sure. His hand didn't tremble and his eyes were narrowed into a frown. The clothes he wore were of the finest fabrics. Dark breeches covered his legs and leather shoes were on his feet. His red jacket was emblazoned with the golden lion of Camelot. Around his waist was a brown belt which was studded with gold buttons and attached to it, much to Arthur's amusement, was the pretend sword that he had kept by his side night and day before he was given his first real training one at the age of eight. The boy's short blonde hair bounced slightly with his firm strides, but even from here, Arthur could see that his cheeks, which were much chubbier than Arthur ever remembered them being, were red. Whatever the front this child was putting forward, he was scared.

'I asked you who you are,' the boy demanded for a second time. Arthur glanced over at Merlin, but promptly looked away at the Warlock's highly amused expression. He clearly couldn't wait to see how Arthur handled his younger self.

'I know that you are Prince Arthur of Camelot,' Arthur answered instead.

'I don't want to know who I am, I want to know who you are. I'm the Prince and you need to do as I ask.'

'I can't think who he reminds me of,' Merlin murmured from beside Arthur.

'Shut up, Merlin,' Arthur snapped, his hand lifting ready to push Merlin off his horse if the man uttered another word.

'Merlin,' the boy said, seizing upon the name and fixing his attention on the warlock. 'You must take me back to Camelot at once.'

'Try asking nicely and I might think about it,' Merlin replied. Arthur rolled his eyes. Did nothing ever change?

'How dare you! My father will put you in the dungeons for that.'

'Merlin, leave him alone,' Arthur told him, finally giving into temptation and pushing Merlin gently off his saddle, making sure that it wasn't enough force to send him flying, before dismounting himself. 'He's six years old.'

'I'm seven!'

Arthur ignored him and turned to Merlin again. 'Go and talk to…' he gestured towards where the second boy still lingered. '…yourself. I'll deal with Arthur.'

'You can't _deal_ with me. I am the prince of Camelot.'

'Suits me,' Merlin nodded and headed off towards the frightened child a few hundred metres away. Arthur turned back to the furious child that now stood staring accusingly at him.

'Look, Arthur,' Arthur said gently, crouching down until he was eye level with the boy. The boy scowled at him further.

'How do you know my name?'

'It's complicated, but you need to know that we are not going to hurt you.'

'But you've kidnapped me. My father will send out his knights and you'll be arrested.'

'No, we won't,' Arthur replied calmly. 'Because this isn't the Camelot you remember, not yet anyway,' he mused to himself.

'What?'

'Your father isn't King in this Camelot.'

'But this _is_ my Camelot!' the boy replied, angry again now as panic began to set in.

'Arthur,' Arthur tried again, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, but they were shrugged off viciously as his young counterpart tried to make a break for it. With a sigh, Arthur ran after him and easily caught up, swinging him off his feet and carrying him back to the horses.

'Get off me!' he screamed, reigning blows down on Arthur, reaching for his pretend sword. 'I'm the prince!'

'And I'm the King!' Arthur told him forcefully, 'So you will do as I say.'

At those words, the boy stopped struggling, but his gaze became even fiercer.

'You're lying, my father is the King. I've never even seen you before.'

Arthur lifted the boy up and sat him on the horse, keeping one hand on his wrists and the other on his feet, knowing that the first thing he'd do otherwise was kick Arthur in the face.

'I've told you; this isn't your Camelot. This is my Camelot. I'm King Arthur.'

'There isn't a King Arthur.'

'Not yet for you, but one day there will be.'

For the first time, the boy seemed to be genuinely considering what was being said.

'You're lying,' he whispered, but all of his earlier confidence had evaporated.

'No, I'm not. Something has gone wrong and you're not meant to be here, but we will find a way to send you back to your Camelot, back to your father.' Eventually the boy nodded.

Arthur turned round to see Merlin and…Merlin walking towards the horses. The warlock had his hand on the boy's shoulder and the boy's fingers were fisted in his jacket. Arthur looked down at where he still gripped his young self by the wrists and ankles. With an apologetic nod he let go.

* * *

><p>Merlin willingly left Arthur to deal with the truly obnoxious prince. It seemed that six year old Arthur had set the tone for adult Arthur. Over the last few years, Arthur hadn't been quite as impolite to Merlin as he had been when they initially met and most of the insults that were hurled between them nowadays held no weight at all, but seeing him as a six year old it was easy to reconcile the servant-bullying royal prat that he'd met on his first day in Camelot.<p>

At hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see Arthur chasing his young self across the clearing, before deftly catching him and carrying him back. A laugh escaped Merlin's lips and he shook his head before turning back to his child self, who by now was only a few metres away. He looked ready to bolt at any moment, and Merlin half expected to have to repeat Arthur's actions and give chase, but then, to his surprise, the boy took a step forward. Merlin slowed to a stop, allowing the boy to come to him.

He couldn't help but marvel at what he saw. Dark hair was being tousled slightly by the wind, while big and frightened eyes looked at him, not bothering to hide their fear. The boy was dressed in what could only be described as rags and even Merlin was shocked at how thin he seemed. His feet were covered with soft cloth dressings and around his neck he wore a patched and thinning neckerchief. Merlin smiled at him fondly. He seemed encouraged by this and took a few more steps forwards.

'Do you know how I got here?' the boy asked, his voice quiet.

'Sort of, I'm trying to work out how to send you back.' He knelt down on the floor, making himself look as unthreatening as possible. This seemed to work and the boy edged forward.

'I know all about you,' Merlin said gently. He knew instantly that he'd said the wrong thing, for the boy's eyes went wide and he backed up.

'Please, it isn't my fault. I can just use it, I didn't learn or anything.'

'What?' Merlin asked, before understanding hit him. 'No, no, don't worry. That's not what I mean. And besides, look.' He snapped his fingers and muttered the incantation needed to produce a small flame in his hand. 'I'm the same as you.'

The boy's eyes went wider still, but in amazement this time. He rushed forward and studied the flame intently, slicing his fingers through the air above it.

'Can you teach me?'

'You want to learn?' At the question the boy shook his head guiltily and stepped back.

'My mother wouldn't wa-'

'Look, æledfýr.' Merlin repeated the spell, ignoring the boy's protest. Tentatively, but with barely concealed enthusiasm, his young self tried to do the same. It took several attempts and more than once Merlin had to help him with the pronunciation, but eventually a small flame hovered above each of their palms. The boy smiled up at him.

'You'll be safe here,' Merlin assured him.

'Where are we?'

'In Camelot, but…' he quickly went on at the boy's look of panic, '…not your Camelot, this Camelot is friendly towards magic. I'm the Court Sorcerer.'

'But my mother told me-'

'I know what she told you, Merlin-'

'You know my name?' he frowned.

'Yes, and I know that you live in Ealdor and have a best friend called Will. I know that you accidentally knocked down the oak tree by Old Tom's cabin last year and I know you're afraid of the dark.'

'How?'

'Can you work it out? Look at me and then look at you.'

Merlin watched transfixed as the boy's forehead furrowed in concentration. He looked at Merlin, really looked at him, he even reached out and touched his face and then suddenly his face smoothed out and an amazed expression formed on it.

'You're me. You're me when I'm old.'

'Well, older,' Merlin suggested.

'You've gone backwards in time, to when you were six…or when I'm six,' he said in awe.

'Not exactly. It's more that you've gone forwards.'

'Me, but…how?'

'Someone, a bad witch, was trying to hurt me, by hurting you. I managed to stop her, but things didn't quite work out how I'd planned.'

The boy looked at him as if deciding whether he should trust this stranger, who might possibly be as far from a stranger as you could get.

'If you're me, then you won't hurt me.'

'No, of course not.'

'And you've got magic,' he whispered the last word, 'so you can send me back home soon.'

'Yes,' Merlin nodded, unsure of whether he was lying.

The boy frowned again, but eventually nodded his head.

'I don't think mother would mind me staying with you for a bit.'

'I don't think she would either,' Merlin agreed. 'So are you ready to go and meet my friend and his younger self?'

'Yes, I think so. Who is your friend?'

'His name's Arthur. He's the King of Camelot.' At his side the boy gawked at him, his mouth wide open.

'You're friends with the King?'

'Most of the time,' Merlin nodded. He put a hand on the shoulder of his young self and gently began to steer him back towards the horses. Without noticing it happening, Merlin suddenly realised that the boy had grabbed a fistful of his clothes and was holding on for dear life. He gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze and smiled reassuringly at him. Up ahead, Arthur gave him a nod, which Merlin returned. All they could do now was return to the city and hope that they could put everything right again. Deep down Merlin had a feeling that it would be far from easy.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate them.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

'Have you worked out how to send them back yet?' Arthur asked in a hushed voice. Merlin looked at him and frowned.

'You mean in the five minutes since we left the clearing, have I managed to come up with a spell to reverse what Morgana has probably been planning for the better part of a year?'

'That's exactly what I mean,' Arthur told him firmly.

'No. Trust me Arthur; this is going to take a lot of time.'

'Then I'm taking you off all other Court duties until you've figured it out.'

Merlin nodded, not bothering to mention that he hadn't been planning on attending any of his other duties until Arthur and Merlin junior were back where they should be.

He glanced back at the two children riding on the horses. Merlin had suggested that they all ride and get back to Camelot as soon as possible, but Arthur had decided against it and Merlin could see that he was trying to work out exactly how much of the situation should be explained to the Court and what he was going to do with the two children in the meantime.

'It'll be alright, Arthur.'

'I hope you're right Merlin, but this can't be good, can it? At the moment, we don't exist when we were five and six. That must have repercussions for us now, surely.' He looked over at Merlin, worry in his eyes.

'I don't know. But as long as they stay safe then we do still exist, we're just slightly out of time order.'

'Slightly, Merlin? This isn't slightly. They're nearly twenty years into their own future. And what's more, I don't remember this happening when I was little.'

'It didn't happen for us.'

'Evidently it did,' he replied, his voice getting louder. On the horses behind, the two boys sat up straighter, looking fearfully at the men.

'You're scaring them,' Merlin whispered.

'Well they're scaring me, Merlin.'

They fell into an uncomfortable silence for several minutes and only the noises of dawn in the forest disturbed them. The birds were beginning to sing in anticipation of the morning, and from what Merlin could see through the foliage of the trees, it would be a clear day. The sky was a gentle tinge of grey and blue, there were no clouds that he could see and the breeze that filtered through the trees was light and refreshing.

'I don't think the King should be leading the horse,' said a voice from behind.

Merlin turned to see young Arthur looking at him with what could only be described as disdain.

'If you want to swap with him, just say the word, he won't mind.' Merlin told him. He glanced over at Arthur who was looking at him with a very similar expression to his young self.

'A Prince can't lead the horse,' he said incredulously. 'I think _he_ should get down and lead with you,' the Prince said matter-of-factly, inclining his head towards young Merlin. The dark haired boy looked unsure of himself and glanced over at Merlin for help.

'Just wait a second,' Merlin said, stopping Halesha.

'Merlin,' Arthur sighed at him, putting a hand to his face as he too stopped his horse. Merlin frowned at him and then turned back to the blonde child who currently sat watching him as if daring him to disagree.

'Why should he lead the horse and not you? You're both in exactly the same situation.'

'We're not the same at all,' the prince argued. 'Look at him, his clothes are dirty and he doesn't have proper shoes.'

'We don't have much money,' young Merlin replied quietly, but firmly. 'And if I was as rich as you I wouldn't be so mean about it.' The boy looked over at Merlin as if searching for his approval. He gave it willingly and grinned at the boy, who returned the gesture, if a little more shyly.

'You two won't ever be as rich as me,' he glared at adult and young Merlin in turn, 'you're just pathetic peasants, both of you.' The Prince's tone was venomous; he was clearly shocked at being spoken back to. Merlin remembered seeing similar shock on Arthur's face when Merlin had insulted him in their first meeting. He had clearly got his own way for many years until the warlock had been flung so unceremoniously into his life.

'Enough,' Arthur said firmly, and all three travellers turned their attention towards the King, his tone enough to stop them from saying anything else. 'Merlin,' he said through gritted teeth, 'you are meant to be the adult here, will you please start acting like it.' Merlin gave an apologetic smile and nodded his assent, not failing to see the smug expression on Prince Arthur's face at the reprimand. 'And you,' Arthur continued, turning to the grinning boy. His smile faltered instantly and Merlin tried to take on board what Arthur had said and act like the adult, rather than returning the smug look he had just received. 'Do not talk about anybody like that. Everybody, whether they're part of Camelot or not, whether they're the richest person in the land or the poorest… everybody deserves respect, especially from their King, or future King. I will not have you talking to Merlin like that, either of them. Is that clear?'

Merlin was surprised at the firmness of Arthur's tone, as was the young prince. He looked as if he'd been hit in the face. He shrank down into the saddle, his eyes creasing slightly. Merlin couldn't help but feel sorry for him and he saw his young self look sadly at the blonde boy. They started walking once again, an uncomfortable silence settling on the group. Merlin glanced over at Arthur several times, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He would never have expected Arthur to react like that, especially not when he was essentially talking to himself.

'What is it, Merlin?' Arthur muttered under his breath. Merlin moved closer so that he wouldn't be overheard.

'What you just said…'

'What about it?'

'It's just strange that's all.' He left it there, knowing it would only infuriate Arthur further. The King sighed emphatically.

'What's strange?'

'Well, telling young you off for speaking disrespectfully to Merlins in general.'

'Why is that odd?' Arthur asked, turning to him in irritated confusion. Merlin grinned at him.

'Because you talk to me like that all the time.'

'It's one of those cases of do as I say, not as I do. Does that clear it up for you?' Arthur asked turning to look ahead once more, with a half smile on his face.

'It does,' Merlin nodded. 'But for what it's worth, thank you.'

Arthur just shook his head and picked up their pace slightly. No-one said anything else as they headed towards Camelot.

* * *

><p>When they finally approached the city gate, the morning business was already well under way, much to Arthur's dismay. He had been hoping to enter the city without attracting too much attention, but with this many people about, news of the two children would spread through the city within a few hours. All around there were woman sweeping out the fronts of their houses, while children ran back and forth playing and shouting and sometimes dragging buckets of water that they had fetched to start the day. Traders were beginning to roll their wares into Camelot on rickety wagons, while guards patrolled the streets, creating a sense of security for all the citizens.<p>

On the horses, the two boys had fallen into a fitful sleep, and Arthur couldn't blame them. He too felt exhausted after their experience and wanted nothing more than to sleep. He doubted, however, that would happen. There was too much to do, too much to try and work out, the first being what he was going to do with the young versions of himself and Merlin. It could all get out of hand very quickly and the less people that knew the better. He sighed heavily.

'Are you alright?' Merlin asked, ever watchful.

'I had hoped we'd beaten the morning activities. There are too many people who will see them and gossip.'

'I can sort that out, don't worry,' Merlin assured him. Turning towards the horses, Merlin held out his hand and Arthur saw the flash of gold in his eyes. Even now, after nearly two years, Arthur frequently found himself stunned by the sheer absurdity of Merlin being the most powerful sorcerer of the age. _Merlin!_ He remembered all those years before when Merlin had just been his bumbling manservant, although Arthur knew he had never been _just_ his manservant. Merlin had been so much more than a servant, and more than a friend. He had been a brother, with unmatched loyalty towards his Prince and now King. It was part of the reason that Arthur had been so sharp with his young self earlier. Merlin had been instrumental in shaping Arthur into the King he was; his seven year old self was just a reminder of the type of king he could have turned into without Merlin's guiding presence.

In fact, the six months where he had not had Merlin around had been the hardest of his kingship. Looking back now, he only felt shame at how he had acted. Only Gwen knew the depth of how his decision still haunted him. Only she had heard him shouting in his sleep, sobbing in the throes of a nightmare as he revisited that time.

He still remembered, with perfect clarity, when he had found out about Merlin's powers. Morgana had made another attempt to destroy Arthur, but this time she had struck out at Guinevere, at his beautiful wife. Even as he remembered it now, he could feel the rush of air that had encompassed him as Morgana materialised in the throne room. She had scattered the knights of Camelot and the Council members that had been gathered there with a few words, determined to force Arthur to watch the death of his wife on his own. Except of course for Merlin, because she had never dreamed, like Arthur, that he could be so incredibly powerful.

She had bound Arthur and Merlin -so she thought- with magic, forcing them to their knees in front of the throne, while she stood in front of it, Guinevere held in place by another invisible force, her fear evident. Arthur had tried, he had fought so hard to reach her, to stop Morgana, but in the end it had been useless. He had watched as Morgana raised the sword. He had screamed at her, pleading with her, but she barely heard him, except to smile at his distress.

The sound of the knife cutting through the air had sent terror jolting through him and then he had heard another voice, a deep yet strangely familiar voice by his side. He had looked to see Merlin on his feet, having never really been bound by Morgana's spell. The knife that had been aiming for Gwen had been flung uselessly on the floor.

'You will leave her now, Morgana, or I will kill you where you stand,' Merlin had told her, his voice confident and assured in a way that Arthur had never heard before.

'You?' she asked in shock, before recovering slightly. 'As if a servant with a few tricks could stop me.' She had not begun to guess the extent of Merlin's abilities. None of them had. She turned her attention to him and her eyes glowed gold as she directed a curse towards him, but Merlin's hands shot up and the air seemed to shimmer around him. He remained untouched, yet Morgana's entire body began to tremble from some outside force. Merlin's hands moved to point at Gwen and then Arthur. The King had found himself suddenly free of his invisible restraints. He had lurched forward, rushing towards Gwen and pulling her away from Morgana, but Morgana didn't even notice.

What followed after that, Arthur, couldn't be sure. He only knew that the very air of the throne room seemed alive. He could sense that bone-shattering forces were being pushed towards Merlin, could hear the howling of winds and the crackling of thunder. He saw flames and lightning fly towards his manservant, but each time Merlin simply held out his hands and whispered a few words. Then, with a glowing of the servant's eyes, whatever Morgana flung at him evaporated into nothingness. Arthur could sense the power coming from him and he could see Morgana's fear.

'You're Emrys,' she had gasped, backing against the wall. Arthur hadn't understood what she meant at the time, but the words had frightened him as he suddenly realised that Merlin had power beyond anything that Arthur could have imagined, that he had had it for a long time, and that he had lied to Arthur for years.

'I am, and I will not let you touch this kingdom.'

The authority in Merlin's voice only served to enrage Arthur further. How could he have done this? How could he have used magic, have played a double agent? How could he have been such a traitor to Arthur, to Camelot; dressing himself up as a loyal servant when in fact he was a powerful and formidable sorcerer capable of destroying Camelot from the inside out?

Morgana had disappeared at that point and the room had fallen into an absolute silence. He stood up from where he had been crouched, Gwen behind him, holding his arm. Cautiously they had approached Merlin. Arthur remembered waiting for him to turn around; it had taken what seemed like hours, but eventually he had faced Arthur. He was pale, tired, fearful and so incredibly unsure. He watched Arthur with as much intensity as the King watched him. He was waiting for judgement, waiting for reprimand. He knew exactly what his actions meant to Arthur, knew that he had betrayed him; Arthur could see it on his face. It only infuriated Arthur further: Merlin had known exactly what he had been doing.

'You traitor!' he hissed.

'Arthur, please-' Merlin had tried, but Arthur had only rushed towards him and flung him against the wall, his sword at his servant's throat in seconds.

'Arthur,' Gwen called fiercely, but he ignored her. She couldn't possibly understand. He pushed Merlin harder against the wall, making the man wince, but that only angered him again. Merlin, pretending to be weak and helpless, when all along he had the power to turn the tides of war. It hadn't occurred to him at the time that with a few words, Merlin could have easily freed himself from the King's brutal grip. When he looked back, it was perhaps Merlin's non-action that made him feel most ashamed.

'You lied to me!' he shouted, emphasising each word by pressing the sword harder into Merlin's neck. A tiny bead of blood appeared on the pale skin.

'Arthur, I didn't-'

'You lied!' he repeated even louder. 'All this time you've been biding your time, lying, working your way into court. Guards!'

'I haven't, I've only ever tried to-'

'You're a sorcerer.' At the other end of the room the doors burst open and the guards, who had been swept out of the room by Morgana's magic, appeared. They hesitated momentarily at the scene they saw. That was not how they expected to find Merlin and Arthur. 'Arrest him!' Arthur shouted to them, all but throwing Merlin towards them as they approached with uncertainty. They grabbed Merlin, who once again showed no resistance.

'Arthur, please. Let me explain,' Merlin pleaded, looking at him with hurting and desperate eyes, but Arthur couldn't see Merlin in them anymore.

'No,' Arthur hissed, putting his head close to Merlin's. 'Let me explain, let me make it perfectly clear to you. You are a traitor to Camelot and to me and I will see you burn for it.'

The expression on Merlin's face was still etched in Arthur's memory: the hurt on it; the betrayal; the disbelief. He remembered seeing Merlin's face smooth out completely, until only his eyes told of the coursing emotions that were shuddering through him, and then he saw them begin to glisten and watched as a single tear traced its way down the young man's cheek. When Merlin spoke, his voice was calm, controlled, but there was a tremor to it that was unmistakable, and a resignation in it that Arthur had never associated with his servant before.

'I can't protect you if I'm dead,' he said gently. 'So I'm sorry Arthur. I really am.'

There had been a blinding flash of light, which had sent Arthur stumbling backwards, and when he had opened his eyes, Merlin was gone, only the echo of his apology in the air.

The next six months were a blur of anger and hurt that Arthur shuddered to remember. He had put all his efforts into searching for Merlin, into condemning and hating the man who he had considered to be his closest friend. Only now when he looked back to that time, could he see how much he had missed Merlin, how much he had wanted to take back his words, but his pride had not let him, had not let him even consider the possibility that Merlin was still his closest friend and most loyal servant. It had taken several months to realise that.

'It should be fine now, Arthur.' Merlin's voice cut into the memories and he breathed a sigh of relief to be pulled from them.

'What are you talking about?'

'Keeping prying eyes a way. You just said you wanted to keep their presence a secret.'

Arthur turned and looked at where the boys had been all but asleep on the horses and then looked around in confusion at seeing the empty saddles.

'What did you do? Where are they?' he asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice.

'You know, you could just decide to trust me one of these days,' Merlin replied, huffing slightly.

'Where are they?'

'They're on the horses. You just can't see them.'

'What do you mean they're on the horses?' He moved round and patted his horse's back, or tried to at least. His hand never made contact with the creature's body, instead stopping just above it, blocked by some invisible force.

'Ow,' came a disgruntled and sleepy voice. 'I didn't do anything.'

Arthur looked over at Merlin, utterly disbelieving. He muttered an apology to the air and then pulled Merlin aside slightly.

'You made them invisible?' he asked.

'Yes, but they don't know that, so keep your voice down,' Merlin whispered, looking back again.

'You made them invisible?'

'Well you said you didn't want them to be seen.'

'Yes, but now I can't see them.'

'Well, sorry. I can't make them visible to you and invisible to everyone else. There's no special treatment in magic.'

'So you can't see them either?'

'Alright, there is some special treatment for the person who casts the spell.'

'So you can see them?'

'And for those that the enchantment's on,' he added quickly.

'And they can see each other?' Arthur replied in annoyance.

'Yes. But, I'll make them visible again once we're in the castle, don't worry.'

'I'm not worried about that. I'm worried that one of them will fall off and they've only got you to stop them from hitting the floor,' Arthur muttered. He enjoyed seeing Merlin frown at him with feigned annoyance as they began to move through the crowd. Many people bowed to Arthur as he walked past them, never guessing that two very familiar looking children were riding on the back of the royal steeds that followed.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for the reviews. Please let me know what you think!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

'Let me go in and…prepare Guinevere first,' Arthur told Merlin seriously as they walked up the steps into the castle. Once they had arrived in the courtyard, Merlin had lifted the enchantment from the boys, confusing only a few morning watch guards who were quickly sworn to secrecy. Arthur and Merlin had then lifted their respective selves from the saddles. Arthur had rolled his eyes as the Prince complained that he could do it himself, while young Merlin raised no objections to being given help.

Prince Arthur had headed confidently up the steps, before Arthur had gently but firmly told him to follow behind, and the young and clearly frightened dark haired warlock had clung to Merlin's arm as if it was the only thing stopping him from being condemned to die on a pyre.

Eventually the two boys had fallen a few steps behind -Merlin awed at the grandeur of the palace and Arthur complaining that everything looked different- giving the King and his Sorcerer a chance to talk briefly before they had to tell Guinevere.

'Are you sure you don't want me to do it? I could explain what's happened,' Merlin offered.

'You've spent the journey telling me that you don't know what happened,' Arthur told him incredulously. Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but then nodded his agreement.

'Well what are you going to say?'

Arthur frowned and tried to think of the best way of broaching the subject. He gave up and shook his head.

'I really don't know, but Guinevere likes children so maybe she'll-'

He stopped as he heard the boy's begin to talk behind them.

'Everything's so big,' Merlin exclaimed in awe. Arthur watched as the Prince rolled his eyes.

'It's a castle; it's not going to be small is it. Haven't you ever been to Camelot before?' His tone was so superior and patronising that Arthur flinched inwardly. Had he really been such an arrogant prat? As if sensing the King's eyes on him, the Prince turned to look at him and had the decency to look guilty at speaking to Merlin rudely again, but at this point Arthur didn't care.

'Gwen may like children,' Merlin nodded at his side, 'but whether she'd like _you_ as a child is another matter altogether. Did you have any friends when you were seven?'

'Shut up, Merlin.' They carried on forwards.

'I bet she'll like me as a child,' Merlin murmured under his breath, but more than a loud enough for Arthur to hear. He decided to ignore the comment. He still needed to work out what he was going to say to Gwen.

The journey to the royal quarters seemed a lot shorter than Arthur remembered and it was with a sense of trepidation he went to open the door, before changing his mind and knocking instead; it was early in the morning and there was no guarantee that his wife would be awake.

'Keep them both out here until I call you,' Arthur instructed Merlin. The Sorcerer looked pained at the idea of having to baby sit on his own, but nodded grimly, turning back and walking down the hall to where the two boys were studying a suit of armour.

Arthur was still watching them when he heard the door open, Guinevere on the other side. As much as he tried to tell her that all she had to do was invite people in, she still insisted on answering the door to every maid, every guard and Merlin –when he bothered to knock- each time. Her face broke into a smile of relief when she saw him.

'Arthur, you're alright. I was beginning to worry.'

'Oh, I'm fine, but I need to talk to you.' He all but pushed her back into the room before she had chance to look down the hall and then shut the door behind him. She looked at him in confusion.

'Is everything alright? Where's Merlin?'

'He's fine. He's just sorting something out for me.' Gwen's eyes narrowed further and Arthur just returned the gaze, trying to look innocent.

'What's going on? Merlin said that Morgana was trying something. Did you stop her?'

'Yes, she's not a threat. Merlin sorted her out. But there have been some repercussions,' he continued slowly.

'Such as?' she asked, sounding immensely worried. Arthur looked at her trying and failing again to think of a good way of broaching the subject. Instead he settled for taking her hands and then sitting them both down on the bed. 'Arthur, you're scaring me.'

'You don't need to be worried, but what I'm going to tell you may come as a shock.' She said nothing, just waited for him to continue. 'Morgana's plan was to open a doorway to the past and kill Merlin and myself when we were children.' Gwen's hand shot to her face and she gave a gasp of both disbelief and horror. 'But,' Arthur continued hastily, 'she failed, Merlin stopped her. He managed to protect our young selves, causing Morgana's attack to backfire on herself. She's been badly injured.' He paused here, allowing her to take in what was being said, but she just looked at him expectantly. With a sigh he continued. 'Merlin, the idiot,' he added for good measure, 'thought he'd managed to close the doorway to the past, which he did, but our young selves didn't end up on the right side of it.'

'Wait,' Gwen said slowly, as if not wanting to voice her guesses. 'Are you saying that there is a young you and a young Merlin wandering about Albion somewhere?' Her face looked to be a picture of panic.

'No,' Arthur replied, rushing to reassure her before realising that it was a lie. 'Not wandering about in Albion,' he continued hesitantly, 'but they are waiting outside in the corridor, with Merlin.'

For several seconds, Gwen looked like she had been frozen by the shock of Arthur's revelation, but slowly she seemed to find her voice.

'They're here? But how can they be here, now, if you and Merlin are here as well?'

'I don't know; Merlin's going to try and find a way to send them back, but until then…'

'I'll look after them.'

'What?'

'The children, I'll look after them,' Gwen repeated. Arthur recognised the determination in her tone.

'There are other people who could-'

'If I look after them then less people will know they're here and isn't that what you want? If rumour gets out about them it will cause problems. Just think, technically another you has a claim to the throne.'

'He doesn't have a claim,' Arthur argued, 'he's seven years old.'

'Well at the very least we need to keep their presence here a secret from Morgana and we know she has spies in Camelot. If she finds out about them what's to stop her trying her plan again?'

'Guinevere, they might be here for a long time,' Arthur tried, but her mind was already made up, he could tell; she wanted to look after them. From the very first moment Arthur had met Guinevere all she had wanted to do was care for other people; it was one of the things that he most loved about her: her gentle heart.

'I've put up with you and Merlin for years; I think I can cope with smaller versions of you,' she told him with a smile on her face. Arthur thought about the attitude of the young Prince and wondered if even Gwen could put up with him for very long.

'Very well,' he nodded. She grinned broadly at him and he couldn't help but smile in response to her enthusiasm.

'Can I meet them then?'

Arthur nodded and walked over to the door. He opened it to see the Merlins sat down and leaning against the wall, waiting patiently to be called in, while Arthur walked slowly back and forth across the corridor swinging his pretend sword as if invisible enemies were closing in on all sides.

'You can come in now,' he told the three of them. All of them looked his way, but it was the blond haired Prince who was quickest of the mark, rushing into the room in a few quick strides, while the dark haired boy followed more slowly.

'How did she take it?' Merlin whispered to him as the boys went in.

'Surprisingly well, but then she hasn't met them yet has she.'

They went back into the room and Arthur couldn't help but smile at Guinevere's reaction. She was watching the boys with a mix of awe and utter adoration. She looked at her husband, pure delight and not a small amount of amusement on her face as she gazed back and forth between the four of them. She said a quiet hello to them which caused the young Merlin to smile shyly at her, but the Prince was already looking around the room, a frown on his face.

'What have you done to my bedroom?' he asked, fixing the King with an accusing stare. 'There are flowers,' he exclaimed, his expression one of pure disgust.

'Why don't you like flowers?' Gwen asked him gently. The prince turned to look at her, evidently not impressed.

'Who are you?' he asked sharply. She was somewhat taken aback by his response, but continued.

'I'm-'

'Actually,' Merlin interrupted from Arthur's side. 'Could I just have a quick chat to the adults in the room?' He looked pleadingly at the King and Arthur nodded. Merlin ushered them to the other side of the room, while the boys moved over to the fireplace, not saying a word to each other.

'I can't believe it,' Gwen whispered, looking at both of them. 'They're exactly like you.'

'He was just rude to you,' Arthur argued.

'I just meant that they look like you and have some of your…mannerisms,' she finished, but it sounded more like a question by the end.

'Listen both of you,' Merlin said quickly. 'I've been thinking and I'm not sure it's a good idea that we tell them anything else.'

'What do you mean?' Gwen asked.

'I don't think we should tell them about you, about Morgana, or Uther. Nothing about what's transpired over the past few years, and we can't let Arthur, the Prince version,' he added for clarification, 'know that magic has returned to the kingdom. In fact he can't know that Merlin or I have magic.'

'Why?'

'Think about it, they'll be finding out things that they shouldn't know, not yet. They've still got to grow up and respond to situations like we did if we want to keep this version of our lives. If we manage to send them back they-'

'_If_ we manage?' Arthur interrupted.

'_When_ we manage to send them back,' Merlin continued as if Arthur hadn't spoken, 'they mustn't know about what their futures hold.'

'But you said yourself,' Arthur replied, 'these things didn't happen to us, why would it change our lives?'

'It might be that if we send them-'

'Merlin,' Arthur growled.

'_When_ we send them back, we'll gain the memories they've made here. The less they know the better.'

'But surely knowing a bit about now won't make that much difference will it?' Arthur asked. Arthur barely remembered anything from his childhood, there was no guarantee that either of the children would remember names or faces or the bits of information that they picked up here.

'Arthur, what is your young self going to do when, a few years into his future, he meets young me and remembers that he has magic?'

Understanding hit Arthur instantly. It just wasn't worth the risk that the boys remembered anything.

'He'll be executed,' Gwen whispered, worry in her voice. 'But Merlin, if you get executed…'

'Then Arthur is killed a few days later by Lady Helen because I'm not there to pull him away. No King Arthur, no Queen Guinevere, no Albion. None of it would have happened.' Merlin shook his head, his expression leaving no doubt of his sincerity. 'The Prince can not find out about magic.'

Arthur nodded his agreement. He hadn't thought about the possibilities.

'You're right Merlin, we need to-' He stopped as a yell sounded from the other side of the room and a muffled thud echoed round it. All three of them turned. Beside Arthur, Merlin had his arm stretched out, ready to use magic if necessary, but he quickly dropped his hand as he took in the sight.

By the fireplace, Merlin's younger self was lying flat on his back, his arms flung up to protect his face from Prince Arthur who had pinned him and was now raising his fist, snarling angrily at the helpless boy.

'Get off me,' Merlin shouted, almost managing to dislodge Arthur by rolling to the side, but the furious Prince held firm and brought his fist down with a yell.

Arthur rushed forward, Gwen on his heels.

'Hey!' he shouted. He hauled the Prince backwards and away from Merlin who quickly scrambled to his feet, tripping several times, before managing to regain his balance and then quickly retreating to the side of his namesake and sheltering behind the warlock. In the King's hands the furious child was struggling to get away.

'You need to arrest him! Now!' he screamed.

'Stop!' Arthur told him.

'No! I saw what he did. My father will have you burnt to death for that,' he hissed pointing at the terrified young warlock. With a sinking feeling, Arthur realised exactly what the boy had seen. He glanced over at Gwen –her hand had crept up over her mouth- and then at Merlin who seemed to have paled considerably and had quickly shielded the dark haired boy from the enraged Prince.

'He used magic! I saw him use it to try and light the fire.'

'But…but,' the other boy muttered, 'it's allowed here, you told me it was allowed,' he said desperately, looking up at the older warlock for reassurance.

'What?' the Prince yelled. 'Camelot will never have magic. It's evil, it's-'

'Be quiet!' Arthur shouted.

'But you're the King! You need to do something,' the boy protested, slipping from Arthur's grasp and approaching the terrified raven-haired boy menacingly. Arthur pulled him back again.

'I said to be quiet,' he repeated.

'You're not going to do anything?' the Prince asked incredulously.

'No.'

At this the boy finally stopped his onslaught, but it was replaced quickly by a look of fear. He backed away from all of them, looking wildly around the room.

'But this is wrong…' he stuttered. 'Magic is evil, he's evil, both of them are!' he shouted pointing at each Merlin in turn.

'You don't know what you're talking about,' Arthur told him. He took a few steps towards the Prince, but as he did, the boy turned and bolted towards the second chamber door. Arthur made to go after him, but a hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

'No, Arthur, I'll go,' Gwen assured him, before quickly following after the boy. Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. So much for keeping his younger self in the dark about Merlin's magic. He looked over and saw his friend comforting his young self. Arthur walked over to them and crouched down.

'Don't worry, you will not be harmed,' Arthur assured the shaking boy. 'You were right, magic is allowed in Camelot, but Arthur doesn't know that and doesn't believe that, not yet.'

'I didn't know I couldn't show him,' he whispered apologetically.

'I should have told you,' Merlin said gently, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. 'It's not your fault.'

'Are you alright?' Arthur asked. The boy nodded. 'Good. I just need to talk to Merlin for a moment. You stay here.' The boy nodded again. Arthur got up and pulled Merlin with him; glancing back to check that the boy was doing as he was told, but apparently young Merlin was much more obedient than his Merlin had ever been; the small boy didn't move a muscle.

'What now?' Arthur asked him hurriedly. Merlin just shook his head, desperation written all over his face. 'What does this mean, for our past?'

'I can't tell you, Arthur. I don't know what this will do. We might convince Arthur that magic isn't evil for now, but when he goes back your father could change that easily. We could warn Merlin about the future, maybe tell him to go to Camelot in disguise under a different name, but he's six years old. What six year old will remember to do that?'

'He's you, Merlin, would you remember?' Merlin shrugged his shoulders, something akin resignation in his face.

'Arthur if things don't play out exactly as they did for us then I don't know if the future we've worked for -this future- will exist anymore.'

'Well we have to make sure it does.' Merlin made no reply. 'Merlin!' Arthur snapped, lowering his voice again as the young boy looked sharply at them. 'Defeatism does not suit you. Think of some way we can put this right.'

Merlin opened his mouth several times, looking round the room for inspiration. 'Maybe…maybe I could…' he sighed, but then froze and looked directly at Arthur, his expression serious. Inwardly Arthur allowed himself to relax. He knew that expression well, had seen it countless times, normally when he'd thought that there was no way out, but time and again Merlin had proved him wrong.

'You have an idea?'

'I'll find a way to erase this part of their memory just before they leave. I've seen some spells for that in my books. I'll make sure that they don't remember anything.'

Arthur nodded at him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

'Good, Merlin.'

On the other side of the room, Gwen and Arthur appeared in the doorway. Gwen had a hand around the boy's shoulder and he, whilst looking very sullen, seemed to be calm. He fixed the young warlock, who had slowly got his feet when the Prince arrived, with a terrible stare, but said nothing else.

Arthur gave Gwen a questioning look and she just smiled and nodded; she would tell him what had transpired later on. Looking round the room, Arthur saw all eyes on him. For now, they all seemed to be on the same side. All they needed now was some sort of plan, one that they all understood the importance of.

'We are all in an unusual and strange situation,' Arthur said, when he was sure that the boys wouldn't end up in a fight once again. 'All of us need to know what is happening and what we need to do.' He indicated the table on the other side of the room, making it clear that he wanted them to sit down. Quickly, with the exception of the Prince who walked at his own slow pace, they moved to the table. Arthur took his place at the head, with the Merlins on one side of the table and Gwen and the Prince on the other.

'We need to work together in order to get our lives back.' He looked specifically at the boys who both showed varying degrees of agreement. 'Good. Now, we have a lot to discuss.'

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Next update here for your enjoyment (hopefully). Thanks for the reviews; it was lovely to receive a few more for the last chapter. Please let me know what you think of this one as well!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

'Gaius!' Prince Arthur yelled as they arrived at the physician's chambers. Merlin grimaced slightly, that hadn't been how he'd wanted Gaius to find out about the situation. He followed after the Prince, while his young self followed behind. Arthur had suggested, strongly, that the first thing they needed was to check that the boys were healthy. Merlin had agreed wholeheartedly, knowing that he needed to get his head injury checked as well, but was less than amused when Arthur suggested, again strongly, that Merlin take the boys while Gwen made up a room for them and he attended his kingly duties. He wasn't sure who had been less impressed with Merlin 'baby sitting,' him or the young Prince; however, when Gaius' name was mentioned the boy perked up considerably and had all but raced to Gaius' chambers.

Merlin looked around the room trying to spot his old friend and was hit, as he always was on visiting the room, with a poignant sense of longing. He had loved living with Gaius for all those years; the man was his father in everything but blood. The room was still settled in an organised sense of chaos, with potions and herbs and books and scrolls spread out all over the place. Merlin smiled as he looked round the room, but quickly stopped when he met the gaze of the old physician.

'Gaius, do you know who I am?' Arthur was asking, almost desperately. Gaius glanced down at him and then back at Merlin.

'I have a terrible feeling I do, young man,' he replied. 'Could I speak to you for a moment please, Merlin,' he continued. When two people stepped forward at the request Gaius straightened up and fixed his friend with a stare that made Merlin feel like he was the six year old.

'He means me,' Merlin whispered to the dark haired boy by his side. I'll be back in a moment.' He walked towards his old room, where Gaius was already waiting. 'And don't go anywhere,' he added turning back to the boys, but directing his words towards Arthur. The boy huffed and then sat down on a stool.

Closing the door behind both of them, Gaius sighed heavily. Merlin didn't turn round to face him straight away; he had never liked being told of by Gaius and he had a feeling that was what was on its way. Instead he looked around his old room. His bed and furniture was still there, but most of the corners of the room were now taken up by magic books and artefacts that the old physician had started collecting again after Arthur had lifted the ban on magic. It made Merlin feel like a part of himself was still in the room.

'What happened, Merlin? Are those two who I think they are?'

'Yes,' was his whispered reply.

For the first time since finding the boys, Merlin allowed the severity of the situation to sink in. He sat down on the bed slowly and put his head in his hands.

'I don't know what to do, Gaius. I mean, Morgana managed to open a door to the past-'

'A door to the past?' Gaius asked, his shock evident.

'Yes, a door to the past,' Merlin repeated. 'She must have been planning it for months; I don't know how she did it, what spell she used and I don't know why those two,' he gestured towards the door, 'ended up now, in this time, when I managed to stop her.' He looked desperately at Gaius, no longer the court sorcerer, but the young, confused, clumsy warlock who more often than not guessed his way through magical incursions and hoped for the best.

'Merlin.'

'Gaius, what do I do?' Gaius stared at him for several seconds and then smiled gently, before sitting next to him on the bed.

'Oh, my boy.' He sighed again and patted Merlin on the shoulder. 'I don't know how you get yourself into these scrapes.'

Merlin looked at him and nodded slowly, not quite amused by the man's words, but comforted by the affection and understanding in them.

'Arthur expects me to be able to send them back, but I don't know where to start.'

'I will help you, Merlin. You are much more powerful than Morgana. You will be able to do this; it just might take some time. Now, tell me exactly what happened.'

Merlin spent several minutes explaining everything to Gaius in detail; he tried to describe the light as accurately as he could, the way the spheres worked, how Morgana acted and what happened when her spell backfired. How he had transferred the magical protection on himself and Arthur onto the children and how they had been thrown back by the explosive force. Gaius listened quietly, nodding at different points, which encouraged Merlin on. When he had finished the silence hung in the air for several seconds.

'I can't tell you much, but I believe I may know why the younger versions of yourself didn't go back.'

'Why?'

'The magic that you transferred onto them was from now, it wasn't from the past. When the spheres collapsed, they probably left each person on the side that they sensed they were from. With your magic –magic from the current time- covering the boys, it would have felt right to leave them here.'

Merlin felt his heart sink at the words. That made sense and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the correct explanation.

'So this_ is _my fault. Again.'

'Had you not done what you did, all four of you would be dead by now. You had no choice, Merlin.'

He turned away and stared at the wall. Gaius was right of course, but that didn't make him feel any better.

'I need to find a way to put this right.'

'You will. In the meantime, what do you want to do with the two young men that are in my chambers?'

Merlin groaned and put his head in his hands again.

'This is going to sound biased,' he lowered his voice, 'but little me is fine, not a problem. A bit too timid,' he frowned. 'I'd tried to punch Arthur within the first two minutes of meeting him.'

'Merlin, this Arthur is only five years-'

'Seven,' Merlin told him. 'Merlin's six and Arthur is seven. Trust me: you don't want to get that wrong.'

'What I mean to say is that Arthur is only young. Why would Merlin fall out with him?'

'Why wouldn't he? Gaius, he's worse than Arthur when I first met him.'

'I don't remember Arthur being like that when he was young, not to the extent that you seem to think.'

'Well, you are more than welcome to look after him for a few hours,' Merlin offered, the thought of being free of both Arthurs a lovely one.

'Perhaps Merlin, you need to put yourself in his shoes.'

'He's made it clear that I can't do that. You know he called me and…me, peasants.'

'Merlin, this is a seven year old Arthur who is scared and confused and doesn't know what to do. Of course he's going to lash out. In many ways, Arthur does the same now.' Gaius gave him a pointed look and Merlin forced himself to consider what was being said. It was true that Arthur was rudest to him and sharpest with those around him when he was unsure or worried, and that was after years of learning to control his emotions. Reluctantly he conceded the point.

'Now,' Gaius told him, 'let's see what we can do about your head and while I'm doing that you can speak to Arthur.' Merlin suppressed a grown, but nodded.

When they went back into the chambers, the two boys were locked in an uneasy silence. Merlin was occupying himself by inspecting the many vials that covered Gaius's desk. He was stooped over, peering at them with a frown on his face, picking a few up and inspecting them more closely. At the sound of the door shutting sharply behind Gaius as he walked down from the bedroom, the boy promptly dropped the one in his hand. In a split second both Merlins had stretched out their hands to stop the vial, but the combined spell proved too much for the glass container and it shattered in mid-air.

From across the room Arthur tried to roll his eyes in disdain, but his fear at the blatant use of magic was obvious.

'Sorry,' the dark haired boy called nervously, scrambling to pick up the pieces.

'Don't worry. Merlin has done a lot more than that over the past few years,' Gaius smiled.

'I'll clear it up,' the boy continued, rushing to find a broom. He quickly found one and occupied himself with tidying.

Merlin left him to it and went and sat down where Gaius indicated. The physician quickly gathered a few supplies and began tending to Merlin's wound. He hissed as the first bit of salve hit his tender skin and ignored the tut from Gaius at his whimpering. Across the other side of the room, Arthur hovered nervously, watching the old man at his work. As the procedure continued he began to edge closer, while Merlin continued to hiss as Gaius pressed a bandage against the scrape.

'If you're so powerful,' Arthur began hesitantly, 'why can't you just use…' he stopped and shook his head, scowling deeply.

'…magic?' Merlin supplied. Arthur said nothing, he didn't even nod; he just stared at Merlin. He felt Gaius press the bandage particularly hard against his wound and he took the hint. 'Well, it's easier to heal injuries if you can see them,' he explained. 'Gaius would do a better job than me, magic or not. And plus, Gaius is the best physician in Albion… but you must know that already.' For the first time the boy's expression softened, but as if catching himself he straightened up and backed away.

'I make sure I don't get injured,' he muttered before retreating to the other side of the room. Inwardly, Merlin sighed and turned to look at Gaius, who just smiled, offering no sympathy.

'There, you'll be fine, Merlin. Make sure you come and get them changed regularly.' Tenderly touching the bandages, Merlin grimaced but nodded. 'Now, let's have a look at you two,' the physician continued, looking at the boys in turn.

* * *

><p>Arthur turned over in bed again and scowled into the pillow when he found he still wasn't comfy. It was terrible that he –the Prince of Camelot- should have to sleep in a spare room, like a visitor in his own castle, especially when his real room was just across the corridor and was being used by a strange and untrustworthy older version of himself and his <em>wife<em>. Arthur shuddered at the thought. Even so, he had to admit that out of everybody –not including Gaius of course-, it was Gwen that he disliked the least. She wasn't a sorcerer and she wasn't a stupid king who'd forgotten everything his father had taught him. She seemed kind and understanding. She had reassured him earlier, told him that he had lots of years to live to get to where she was now, to where King Arthur and Merlin, the court sorcerer, were.

He had told her that he would never allow magic into Camelot and she hadn't argued with him. Instead, she had said that she knew he was wise and clever and a good leader, and that when the time came he would make the right decisions. He hadn't been able to argue with that; he hadn't wanted to. She had told him that everyone would do everything they could to keep him safe and that she would look after him. For some reason he believed her.

Obviously, however, she hadn't understood what it meant to look after a prince properly; that explained the guest room. And what was worse was the fact that he had to share! He, Arthur Pendragon, had to share a room with none other than a stupid peasant boy who apparently had never even slept in a bed before, if his reaction earlier was anything to go by. Guinevere had shown them to the room and Merlin, the idiot boy, had stood in the doorway for a full minute looking around the place as if it was made of gold and diamonds before walking over to the bed, staring at it as if he hadn't got a clue what it was and then climbing into it, with all his clothes still on, just to try it out. It was a bed for goodness sake! He sighed again.

'Are you still awake?' Merlin's voice floated over from the other side of the room. Arthur considered ignoring the boy, but was too wide awake to sleep anyway.

'What does it matter if I am?'

'I just wondered,' Merlin whispered. 'Can't you sleep?'

'Isn't that obvious?'

Arthur thought he sounded irritated enough that the silly boy, a sorcerer no less –Arthur pushed the fact from his mind-, would leave him alone, but he carried on. Arthur both admired and loathed his persistence. How rude did he have to be before Merlin got the hint?

'Are you scared about something?'

'No, of course I'm not scared. I'm the Prince; I don't get scared. Only wimps like you do.'

'You're not scared that we're trapped twenty years ago and that they don't know how to send us back and that an evil witch tried to kill us and we might never see our families again?' Merlin asked, a mix of awe and disbelief in his voice.

Arthur closed his eyes as they began to sting with tears at the words. He pulled the blanket more tightly around him and curled his legs up, wanting to block out what Merlin had said. He was the Prince and princes didn't get scared.

'No,' he replied fiercely, but his voice caught on the word and he felt his face grow hot at his evident weakness. That was it: now Merlin would make fun of him, call him a baby and tell him that he was scared and frightened. That was what he would do, that's what all his friends would do and so they should. He had to be strong all the time, no matter what. That was what his father was like. He never got scared, he always knew what to do and what to say to people. Princes couldn't be scared.

'I'm sure it will be alright,' Merlin said instead, much to Arthur's surprise. He pushed himself up in the bed, but in the pitch black of the room he couldn't make out anything. 'Merlin will work it out.'

'You only think he'll be able to do it because he's you. You just want to think that you're clever,' Arthur snapped.

'I'm not clever; I can't do any of the things that he can do.'

'Magic isn't clever: it's wrong and it's evil and if my father was here you'd both have been executed by now.' Arthur didn't raise his voice –he didn't want the adults to hear and come and tell him off- but he made sure that he sounded angry and serious, because he was. How could the King let magic into the land? It was the most terrible thing that could happen in Camelot. His father would have hated it. Why hadn't he stopped it? But Arthur knew why. Nobody had said it and he hadn't asked, but he knew that in this time his father was dead. Maybe Merlin had even killed him to bring back magic, maybe Merlin was enchanting the King right now and had been all along. That was the only explanation he could think of because he knew that he –Arthur Pendragon- would never let magic back into Camelot.

'I don't understand,' Merlin's voice suddenly murmured from the darkness. Arthur frowned; he'd thought that the last comment would have shut the boy up. Didn't he ever stop talking?

'Well I'm not surprised. Where you come from I bet people can't even read or write.'

'I just don't understand,' he repeated as if he hadn't heard. This irritated Arthur further. What was wrong with this boy? If he'd said half of these things to anybody back home they would have run off crying by now. When the boy didn't continue, Arthur was annoyed to find that he actually wanted to know what he was talking about.

'What don't you understand?' he snapped.

'Why Merlin, I mean old me,' he added for clarification, 'would ever have made friends with old you. If you were this mean to him, why would he ever want to spend time with you?' Merlin really did seem to be confused. He didn't say it spitefully like Arthur would have done, his voice was gentle and sort of sad. Arthur was furious when he felt slightly ashamed by the words.

'I don't want to be friends with you now or any time in the future.'

'But you will be one day. One day we will be friends. Merlin and Arthur are really good friends and they're just us from the future.'

'Merlin and you,' Arthur began matter-of-factly, 'are evil sorcerers and I know that the only reason Arthur's his friend is because Merlin has put a spell on him. I won't let you do that in the future.'

'Merlin hasn't put a spell on him,' Merlin replied, and finally he did seem annoyed.

'How would you know?'

'Because I know that I'd never do that. It would be wrong to do that to someone,' he replied firmly. 'And Arthur would be angry with you if you ever said that about Merlin.'

'You don't know anything about Arthur. I am him, I know what he thinks,' Arthur replied, making sure that he laughed to show Merlin just how much of an idiot he was being.

'I don't think you're anything like him,' Merlin replied quietly. 'He's much kinder, nicer, cleverer and happier than you are.'

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but found that his throat seemed to have closed off. He swallowed and tried again, but he knew that when he spoke, he would sound stupid and frightened and babyish. Slowly he lay back down on his bed, Merlin's final words repeating over and over again like an echo in the room. He tried to fight them, tried to blink them away, brushing at his face furiously, but in the end he was powerless to do anything. He wanted to go home; he wanted his father; he wanted everything to go back to what it had been like. He wanted Merlin and King Arthur and Guinevere to go. He hated them all, hated everything about this stupid place where nothing was right and everything was different to how it should be. The tears rolled down his face as he finally fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for all the lovely reviews and also to my annonymous reviewer for their encouraging comment. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy and please let me know what you think!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Merlin sighed and put his head in his hands. He had been up half the night trying to find some reference to magical time manipulation, but he had discovered absolutely nothing, not in any of his magic books -and he had acquired several over the past year. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling them sting, biting into the corners like a needle. They felt dry and scratchy and all he wanted to do was close them for several hours and let sleep calm his thoughts, but he had to carry on.

Slamming the book in front of him closed, he moved onto the next one, trying not to wince as his head throbbed at the sound. He had been back to Gaius again to change the dressing, but it still ached mercilessly. Reading by candlelight wasn't helping either. He looked at the mountain of books by his side and grimaced; although considerably smaller than it had been earlier, the pile was still big enough to occupy Merlin for several days.

As he flicked through the pages of the next book and found nothing even remotely related to time travel, the desperation of their situation hit him afresh. The idea that he wouldn't find a solution to this was beginning to grow in his mind. Perhaps what had happened the previous night had been something completely new? Perhaps the combination of Morgana's magic and his own had produced a result that couldn't be replicated again even if he tried. And if that was the case then what would happen to them…to all of them?

He shuddered as a breeze swept in from under his door, but his reaction had nothing to do with cold; the evening was warm and the fire was lit. Rubbing his eyes he tried to block out the images of himself and Arthur disappearing into nothingness while their young counterparts were left to handle a Kingdom that had fallen apart. Once or twice he imagined Morgana stealing into the castle and carrying on her plan. In all likelihood she had realised how Merlin had protected the two boys; she would have seen the magic transferring from their old selves to their young selves. She knew that the _real_ Arthur and Merlin were currently unprotected. Now would be her opportune time to strike at them. Merlin only hoped that her backfiring spell really had weakened her as much as he thought. If she did decide to attack them it would be much harder to fend her off.

Of course, by now Merlin had managed to place several protective spells on the King when he wasn't looking and sometimes even when he was. Arthur would be protected from a few minor attacks –very minor-, but from Morgana? Merlin shook his head. On the other hand, the boys were covered from head to toe in a thick layer of wards and enchantments, not that he'd mentioned that to them, but at least that was something he didn't have to worry about. That was about it though when it came to his things-not-to-worry-about-list. Everything else was very much in his hands. Unless he could find a solution they were all still in danger. He slammed the next book shut. Useless.

What could he do?

There were two existences at stake here, it was true, but there were four people whose lives stood to be completely destroyed. And what about Albion? He and Arthur had worked to create a kingdom that was fair and noble; a place of safety where people felt that their lives could be lived out in peace and with meaning. What would happen to the society that they had fought to build? Merlin put his head in his hands, trying to block out the doubts and thoughts that were twisting through his mind in ever more terrifying and horrible scenarios. He didn't know what to do.

His door slamming open abruptly pulled Merlin from his sleep. He let out a startled yelp and was surprised to find himself with his head on a book, the first page opened and clearly unread. The fire had died in the grate and dawn light was beginning to seep through his curtains. He looked round in confusion to see Arthur standing at his door. He looked like he'd all but run from his room despite the fact Merlin's quarters were only a corridor down from his own. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, he looked like he'd thrown a shirt on and he still had marks down his face where the materials of the blankets had been pressed into him.

'Arthur what are you doing?' Merlin asked, his voice coming out hoarse and croaky. He coughed and carried on. 'I still can't tell you anything, I must have fallen asleep.'

Merlin had been expecting Arthur to start ranting at him for making no progress in finding a way of sending the boys back, but instead he looked at Merlin, focussing carefully on him as if looking for something.

'I think we have another problem.'

'What is it?'

'Merlin, what happened the first time we met?' Merlin turned round in his chair and looked at Arthur again; maybe the King was sleep-walking.

'Arthur-'

'Tell me what happened,' he said firmly. Merlin stared at him for several seconds and then inwardly sighed and did as he was asked. It was best to keep him happy. He cast his mind back to his early days in Camelot. He remembered meeting Gaius and saving his life when the old man fell from the balcony in his room, after that he'd gone out on errands and then…

Merlin froze. What had happened then? He tried again. The first time he had met Arthur. He remembered all the Court being covered in dust and cobwebs and then seeing a knife being thrown at Arthur, remembered pulling him out of the way. He shook his head firmly. He'd already met Arthur by then, he was sure, but when? What had happened? He looked up at Arthur, panic filling him.

'I don't remember,' he whispered. He stood up and walked several paces across the room, looking at the floor, trying to summon the memories. 'Lady Helena…no that was after. I saw you…' he shook his head and put a hand to it. 'I must have…we…' It was useless. 'I don't remember.'

'Neither do I. I had to ask Gwen,' Arthur replied, shaking his head and beginning to pace as well. 'Apparently I was tormenting a servant, using him as a moving target and you told me to leave him. And then later on we fought in the lower town.'

'Sounds like something you'd do,' Merlin said with a tight smile, but it faded very quickly. The incident didn't sound familiar to him at all. 'But I don't remember you doing it,' he continued slowly.

'What's happening Merlin? This is because our young selves are here isn't it?' Merlin sat back down. 'You said yourself that nothing's changed yet; that as long as those two are safe then so are our pasts. Why would our memories go?' Arthur was still pacing, but he kept on looking at Merlin, waiting for a response. Yet the warlock had none to give. Why would their memories be affected? Unless, or course, time and history already knew that Merlin was not going to find a way to send the boys back and was beginning to rewrite the past in order to accommodate that fact. Was that even possible? 'Merlin!' Arthur shouted, making the warlock jump. 'What is happening? Magical issues are your area of expertise, not mine. This is what you're here for.'

Merlin knew that Arthur was worried, maybe even a little scared, but the words still stirred an anger in him that he rarely felt. Was that the only reason he was here: to advise Arthur on magical issues?

'Then I'm afraid I'm not doing my job properly, because I don't have any idea what's happening.' Merlin murmured. He knew that his tone betrayed his irritation.

'I don't have time for this Merlin. I'm loosing my memories and-'

'In case you hadn't noticed, so am I,' Merlin argued back. 'So believe me when I say, I'll do everything I can to work this out, but at the moment I don't know. And you're not helping.' He saw Arthur's eyes narrow in anger at his tone and flippancy, but Merlin didn't care; he was doing everything he could.

'Make a guess then,' he replied, his tone low and dangerous.

'I don't have any guesses.'

'You're lying,' Arthur told him sharply, pointing his finger. 'Remember, Merlin, you lied to me for years. I know what it looks like.'

Merlin's head snapped round to face Arthur, each word cutting into him. Would he never be free of Arthur's resentment for what he had done? Every time he thought that the King had forgiven him, something would come up. A year ago there had been a magical attack on Camelot. Merlin had been set up, made to look like the guilty one with not a single alibi for any of the incidents that had occurred. Of course, Gaius and Gwen had never doubted him when he said he was innocent and he knew that the knights had believed him, but Arthur hadn't. He hadn't turned on him, but there had been mistrust in the King's eyes on more than one occasion. He hadn't had Arthur's trust, not completely. The doubt had been there, evident to Merlin and evident to everyone else and it had hurt Merlin more than he had ever let on. He remembered the days when Arthur had trusted him unquestioningly at every turn. Even now, he found himself wishing for them once again.

There had been other times as well; little comments that Arthur had said innocently, but that Merlin had known were, to some extent, a product of his continuing reservations as to where Merlin's loyalty truly lay. The warlock wasn't even sure that Arthur realised he didn't trust his friend completely, but Merlin knew. He knew deep down, and every time he was reminded of it, it cut into him. He had sacrificed so much for Arthur, why couldn't he see that?

This though, this was different. Arthur's words had been said to hurt Merlin, to guilt him, to force him to do as he was asked: in this case to tell Arthur what he suspected, regardless of the fact that Merlin knew nothing for certain. He lowered his eyes from Arthur's, but not before he'd seen a brief look of regret pass across the King's face. The tension in the room was suddenly palpable and Merlin heard the words of their exchange repeating in his mind. Arthur must have felt the same because quickly his fierce expression softened and he took a half step forward, his own head bowing slightly.

'Merlin-' he began, but Merlin couldn't listen to an apology. Arthur had said it and he meant it.

'Fine, here is what I guess, _Sire_,' he began slowly.

'Merlin-' Arthur tried again, speaking gently.

'Perhaps history can't cope with them not being in the correct time,' he continued as if Arthur hadn't said a word. 'Maybe it's trying to adjust our pasts accordingly, and the first thing to go is our memories.' He looked up. Arthur stared at him, evidently considering whether to continue with his apology attempt, but Merlin knew he wouldn't. The King sighed.

'Are you saying that our memories are going to begin disappearing?'

'It seems so.'

'How fast?' Arthur asked in alarm.

'I don't know. It's been hours since our young selves arrived and only one memory seems to have gone. Is there anything else you can't remember?'

'How would I know, Merlin? How would we even be able to tell?' Arthur asked sharply. Merlin took a deep breath at the tone, trying to calm himself, but he knew his voice was clipped when he next spoke.

'Well you can tell that you've forgotten about our first meeting. You'll be able to tell because you'll know you remembered it at one point.'

'You know that doesn't make any sense don't you Merlin?' Arthur told him, turning round and pacing once again. For a split second, Merlin thought about making some witty self-depreciating comment about him never having any sense, just to lighten the mood somewhat. That was what he normally did; accepted Arthur's criticism with humility, patching up a misunderstanding between them with a few gentle words, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was tired, Arthur was angry at him for something that wasn't his fault and he didn't want to listen to another comment from his friend about how useless he was.

'Well, by all means, have a go at working it out yourself,' Merlin replied, standing up and gesturing to the pile of books, read and un-read, on his desk. With that he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and headed towards the door.

'Where are you going?' Arthur asked in a harsh tone. It only set Merlin on edge even more.

'I'm going to speak to Kilgharrah to see if he can help, but then I do lie to you all the time Arthur, so who knows? Maybe I'll go to the tavern or go and find Morgana and plan a way of taking over Camelot.' Merlin knew he was being petty, knew that the comment wouldn't help, but he didn't care. He opened the door and slammed it shut as he stormed into the corridor, leaving a stunned Arthur behind.

* * *

><p>A bang from somewhere awoke Merlin from his sleep. He groaned at the thought of having to leave the bed. It was by far the most comfy thing he had ever slept in, but then considering he'd only ever slept on the floor that wasn't saying much. He got the impression, however, that this bed would be more comfortable than most beds. He was, after all, staying in a castle. <em>A castle!<em> Merlin grinned to himself. As much as he missed his mother and worried about whether he would ever get back, he had to admit that he found the whole situation very exciting, even if it was terrifying at the same time.

If only he didn't have to share the experience with Prince Arthur. He really couldn't imagine how the two of them could ever be friends. He lifted his head from the pillow and saw Arthur glaring at him from where he lay. Merlin sighed; what could he possibly have done? He'd only been awake for five seconds. He was about to point that out to the obnoxious Prince when another muffled bang sounded from the corridor. With a frown Merlin climbed out of the bed, shuddering at the sudden lack of warmth, and tiptoed across to the door. He was surprised to see the Prince close behind him. As quietly as he could, Merlin opened the bedroom door a crack and peered down the hall. He felt his head being pushed down as Arthur joined him, but complied and knelt down without arguing.

The view of the corridor was restricted from this angle, but Merlin distinctly saw his older self heading away and the King standing in the middle of the hall, watching the man go.

'Merlin, what's the matter with you!' Arthur shouted.

From where he knelt eavesdropping at the door, Merlin frowned. He hadn't heard the King talk to his friend like that. He sounded angry, very angry.

'Merlin!' the man shouted again when the warlock didn't turn around. 'Just stop you idiot!'

'He told me I couldn't speak to you like that,' Arthur hissed, Merlin resisted the urge to elbow him in the stomach, figuring that he would lose the fight that would ensue.

In the corridor, the dark haired man had finally stopped.

'What do you want?' he asked the King angrily.

'What's wrong with you?'

'You don't care what's wrong with me,' Merlin replied incredulously, a humourless laugh falling from his lips.

'Look, Merlin,' Arthur answered, 'I haven't got time for your girlish reactions. You might not realise, but I have a small problem to deal with.'

'That's right, Arthur: you have a small problem; you're the one who is suffering through this whole ordeal; you're the only one who has anything to worry about.' Merlin's voice was low, but every word was perfectly audible to the boys listening at the door.

'You really don't have time to waste being dramatic,Merlin.' Arthur's tone was dismissive and he began to turn away.

'Wasting time?' Merlin replied. He shook his head. 'You know, Arthur, you never change.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' The King turned back menacingly, his tone dangerous.

'It means that you're selfish and arrogant.' He ran a hand through his hair as if deliberating something, but then he took several steps towards Arthur. 'And it means that at some point you need to realise that I'm not the clumsy, useless servant that you first knew. I never was.'

There was a moment's silence, but then Arthur moved forwards until he was directly in front of Merlin, a finger pointing at the warlock.

'Are you threatening me?'

At the door, Merlin heard the Prince snigger; he ignored him and turned his attention back to the scene in the corridor. His older self suddenly looked sad; he wasn't angry now and he didn't seem to want to argue anymore. He laughed, but there wasn't any happiness in it. He looked defeated, like he'd given up. He shook his head and turned away, but then seemed to change his mind. He looked back at Arthur and began to speak; this time his voice was quiet.

'When have I ever threatened you, Arthur? When have I ever done anything to make you doubt my loyalty? Everything I have ever done is to protect you and to protect Albion. Whether you believe it or not, it's still the truth.' He stopped again, but he didn't move, just stared at the King with pain filled eyes. 'And just in case you've forgotten, I didn't start this. This is Morgana's doing; this was her plan. And yes, my magic brought them through, but if I hadn't done something we'd both be dead by now. So the least you could do is realise that I am doing everything I can to put it right; I've been up most of the night looking for anything that can help.' He sighed and stepped back. 'I don't know what you want me to do, Arthur, but this is the best I can manage. If it's not good enough for you then you'll have to find yourself another Court Sorcerer, and if that's all I'm here for, then just say the word and I'll go, but until then I'm going to do my job, Sire.' With that the warlock turned and disappeared round the corner. The King just stood still for several seconds, evidently at a loss for words.

Closing the door silently, Merlin found himself feeling somewhat shaken at the exchange that had just taken place. Something felt wrong about it, as if the King and Sorcerer hadn't spoken to each other like that before, as if something had changed. Merlin closed his eyes and hung his head.

When he finally looked up he expected to see Arthur smiling smugly at him, but the Prince was now sat on the bed, staring at the floor, his face pale. Merlin frowned and hesitantly pushed himself off the wall that he was leaning against.

'Are you alright?'

'He said Morgana. Morgana was the witch that did this.'

'Who's Morgana?' Merlin asked slowly. He didn't recall the name being mentioned since they had arrived; he didn't remember Arthur or Merlin even giving the witch's name, but from the Prince's reaction she was evidently someone he knew. 'Arthur?'

The boy jumped as if he had been hit and stood up, facing Merlin menacingly.

'Don't talk to me.'

'But-'

'I'm not your friend, and from what I can tell, I never will be.'

He smiled smugly, his eyes narrowing. Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn't think of anything to say. Arthur was right, that wasn't how two friends spoke to each other; that wasn't how they treated each other. Both of them were upset, Merlin knew, and he wanted to help. He didn't know how to help a King, least of all Arthur, but perhaps he could help Merlin.

With determination, he threw on his clothes over his night wear and headed to the door.

'Where are you going?' Arthur asked.

'What do you care?' Merlin grinned. 'We're not friends.' With that he opened the door and, seeing the corridor was clear, headed off in the direction that his namesake had gone. The last thing he heard was the Prince's voice calling him back.

He ignored it.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: This is a very long chapter. Was going to split it, but decided it'd be alright as it was. Thanks very much for the reviews!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Slamming the door behind him, Arthur stormed into his quarters, only remembering that Guinevere was still in bed when she let out a startled yelp. He cursed his own insensitivity and muttered an apology to her, before walking over to the bed and sitting on it, his head bowed low and his hands draped uselessly across his knees.

'Arthur?' she asked, pushing herself into a sitting position and moving over to him, putting a hand on both of his shoulders and rubbing them gently. 'What is it?'

He shook his head.

'Is it Merlin?' she pressed on cautiously. 'Have his memories gone as well?' She seemed calmer now than she had been earlier.

Arthur had woken her up that morning after being woken himself by a dream: a dream where he and Merlin had been in danger, terrible danger. They'd both known that they were about to die and Merlin had looked at him and grinned, and then asked him if he remembered when they first met. In the dream, Arthur hadn't been able to recall the meeting and his panic had forced him into wakefulness only to resurface even more strongly when he realised that he was suffering the same memory loss in reality. He had told Gwen without really thinking about how she would react.

If he was truthful with himself, he had, for a moment, thought that his memory loss meant that something was happening to Merlin, that maybe Merlin's life had been erased or that something had happened to young Merlin which had in turn affected them both. The very idea sent something akin to terror shuddering through him, which he was loathed to admit. It had been with that thought in mind that he had blurted everything out to Gwen. Whether her thoughts had followed a similar path to his own, he wasn't sure. He guessed not because she had then proceeded to ask him question after question about his life, about their life together and about his past, checking to see if he remembered everything else. Even though he had answered each one correctly, she had still looked considerably pale and anxious when he had left to go and find Merlin.

It had been a great relief to find the warlock asleep at his desk in his room. Nothing had seemed amiss and aside from the identical missing memory Merlin had been fine, or so Arthur had thought, but now…

He sighed heavily and ran his hands over his face trying to clear his thoughts.

'Arthur?' Gwen repeated, a little more insistently this time, but still with the same care and affection.

'Something's wrong with him,' he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. He couldn't believe how Merlin had spoken to him. He had been so angry and one thing that Arthur never associated with the man was anger. Merlin always had a way of lightening a situation, he was always positive, he was never bitter or defeatist.

'Has he lost his memories?' Gwen asked, trepidation in her voice. Her hands stopped rubbing his shoulders as she waited for a reply. Arthur reached up and covered one of her hands with his own.

'He's only missing the same one that I am,' Arthur assured her. 'That's not what's wrong.'

'Then…?' but understanding crossed her face. 'You argued.'

Arthur sighed again and stood up, beginning to pace. He could feel himself getting angrier and angrier as he recalled their… 'disagreement', but he wasn't entirely sure that his anger was directed at Merlin.

'Arthur, what happened?'

'I don't know,' he replied, standing up and shaking his head. 'I really don't know, one minute he was fine and the next he was shouting at me.'

'Shouting?' Gwen asked, her disbelief obvious.

'Yes, shouting. He was angry, Gwen. Furious.'

'With you?'

'Who knows? You know what Merlin's like, always being dramatic, takes everything so personally.'

'Arthur,' Gwen said. She was waiting for the truth; she always could tell when he was avoiding the issue. He sighed again. This was not what the King of Camelot should be worrying about, not when there were many more pressing issues at hand. He voiced the same thoughts to Gwen.

'…I mean, I should not be spending my time trying to work out what's wrong with a member of my court after they threw a tantrum.'

'You know that Merlin isn't just a member of your court, Arthur, and he doesn't throw tantrums. This isn't anything to do with the royal household; this is to do with your friend. Your most loyal friend. You know what Merlin would do for you. I always rest easier when I know he's with you.' She pushed back the covers and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and bowed his forehead onto hers. 'What did you say to him?'

He shook his head again; he recalled his words and felt ashamed that he had allowed his fear to cloud his judgement. His attack on Merlin had been nothing to do with him -he knew that the warlock was working day and night to find a solution-; it had been about Arthur's own fear and desperation.

'I…' he shook his head. He didn't want Gwen to know about his failings as a friend to someone who had saved his life over and over again, but she cupped his cheek with her hand and encouraged him on with a gentle smile. 'I insinuated that he wasn't trying hard enough and I…' He stopped again; this had been what had upset Merlin; he'd said it because he knew it would. He knew how hard the warlock had tried to prove his loyalty. He didn't know how many times the man had apologised for not revealing his magic to Arthur sooner, until the King had finally told him to stop. Merlin had spent the last year and a half trying to regain back Arthur's trust; a trust which, if Arthur was completely honest, Merlin had never deserved to loose. The issue was Arthur's, not Merlin's. It was him who still couldn't quite look past the secret Merlin had kept; it was him who still, on occasion, questioned Merlin's allegiance before the more intelligent side of him reminded him how utterly absurd it was for Merlin to ever be against him. Arthur had tried to ignore the tiny thoughts that cropped up every now and then, knowing that they held no truth, but he just couldn't quite shake them.

And it hurt Merlin; Arthur knew that. It was why he always fought so hard to keep the darkest suspicions of his heart shielded and hidden from his friend, but this morning he'd given up that battle. He had lashed out because of his fear and helplessness; lashed out at the one person who understood what he was going through. Because normally Merlin didn't argue back; he didn't take the comments personally; he brushed them off, or pretended to at least. But not today. Today both of them had let their emotions get the better of them.

He opened his eyes and looked deep into Gwen's. She was waiting for him, giving him time. 'I told him that he was lying, that I knew what that looked like, that he'd done it for years.'

To Gwen's credit, she didn't let her disappointment in him show on her face. Instead she gave him a sad half smile of understanding. She, more than anyone, knew what Merlin meant to Arthur, she already knew how disappointed he was in himself without her adding to it.

'You're both under a lot of pressure,' she told him as she reached up to hug him. 'You'll sort this out. You always do. Just give him a bit of time. Merlin doesn't hold grudges, Arthur, and he forgives easily.'

Arthur nodded. Gwen was right, of course. Merlin would be fine; he would accept Arthur's poor excuse for an apology and move on, just as he always did. Arthur only hoped that he hadn't done any damage to their friendship. He needed Merlin at his side; partly as a sorcerer, but completely and utterly as a friend.

* * *

><p>Merlin tried to remember the way to the castle entrance, but in the end he was sure it was luck more than his navigating skills that found him walking down the steps into the cobbled courtyard area. At first he had tried to sneak about so as not to draw attention to himself, but he didn't think he was very good at it because he had received more suspicious looks doing that than when he had decided to just walk around normally. After that, the looks he got were more of confusion than anything else; he guessed that there weren't many children living in the castle. Still, he was relatively confident that no-one realised who he was, but then why would they? After all, the <em>real<em> Merlin was a man in his twenties, not a six year old boy. He had a feeling that they might get closer to the truth if they met Prince Arthur, but only because he drew attention to himself. Merlin, on the other hand, prided himself on his ability to disappear and hide; his mother had told him it was important to go unnoticed in order to keep safe and he was using all those skills now.

Still, he couldn't help but think that his older self had the same skill because try as he might, Merlin couldn't work out where the man had gone. He had said that he was going to find someone, Kil…Kilgha…someone, but Merlin hadn't heard the name mentioned before. He was just about to try and find his way to the old physician's rooms…Gaius, when he heard the sound of hooves on the cobbles. Looking around he saw the sorcerer sat on top of the horse that he had had yesterday. He wasn't rushing, but Merlin knew that there was no way he could follow him.

He sighed in frustration, but at that moment, as if sensing his presence, the man looked over to him. He pulled his horse to a stop and then turned back and trotted over to the steps. Merlin tried not to look guilty.

'What are you doing here?' the sorcerer asked.

'I was looking for you,' Merlin replied, quietly. 'I wanted to help.'

'Does Gwen know where you are?'

'No, but I'm sure Arthur – Prince Arthur – will tell on me soon.' The man smiled and nodded down at him.

'Come on; there's someone I want you to meet.'

'I can come with you?' he asked excitedly. The warlock nodded and held out a hand to help him up into the saddle. Merlin gladly took it and then wrapped his arms round the man's waist when he was seated.

'Hold on.'

'I will.'

They cantered through the streets of Camelot; people moving out of the way without complaint; it was obvious that they liked and respected the Court Sorcerer and it made Merlin feel proud that one day he would be that person. Well, if they ever found a way to get back home. Soon, though, they left the cobbled streets and wooden houses of the city behind and galloped across the open plains. Neither of them said anything –it would have been hard to hear anyway- but Merlin didn't mind the quiet, it didn't feel difficult or uncomfortable; it just felt calm.

When they reached the forest, they slowed down and Merlin breathed in the scent of the trees and the rich soil beneath them. It was a sunny day, warm and fresh and he felt like he was sinking into the earth, becoming part of it as the wind twisted around him, stirring the leaves and ruffling his hair. After a while though, he became curious.

'Where are we going?' he asked.

'Back to where we found you last night,' his older self replied. 'My friend will meet us there.'

'Your friend?'

'A very old friend?'

'Do I know him then?' Merlin asked, excited at the prospect. The man laughed.

'Not yet, but you will do, trust me.'

They carried on, the silence still a comfortable one, but Merlin could still remember the argument that he had overheard -listened in on- that morning and he could sense the man's sadness, almost like he was remembering it and letting the emotions fill the air around him. Merlin couldn't explain it, but somehow he knew how his older self was feeling and it made him feel sad as well.

'How did you make friends with Arthur?' Merlin whispered. He could tell from the way the man tensed that the question had caught him of guard, but he didn't refuse to answer.

'With difficulty, but I suppose you've realised that already, staying with Prince Prat- Arthur,' the man said hastily. Merlin giggled. 'Don't tell Arthur, King Arthur that is, that I said that. Or the Prince for that matter.'

'I won't.' Merlin sighed. 'I don't know how I'll ever be friends with him. He hates me and he doesn't even know me. Did Arthur ever hate you?'

The silence that followed seemed to have a depth to it that Merlin couldn't understand. He was afraid that he'd said the wrong thing, but soon the man continued, his tone soft.

'When we first met…however that was…' Merlin frowned at the comment; what did that mean? '...we didn't like each other. I don't think we hated each other, but we weren't friends. But then we realised, well I did, that actually we had work to accomplish together…that we _needed_ to work together. I don't know when Arthur realised, maybe he still hasn't fully, but when you do the things we did, you become friends and you care about each other. You protect each other…' The man sighed. 'Becoming friends won't happen quickly or easily, but one day you and Arthur will depend on each other more than anyone else. You'll be like brothers.'

'Like you are now?' Merlin asked.

'Perhaps…' the man nodded. 'But maybe we're not there yet either.'

'Because you had a fight?'

From where he sat in the saddle, the sorcerer turned round and looked at his younger self.

'You heard that?'

Merlin hadn't meant to say anything, he hadn't meant to let on that he had overheard the argument, but he couldn't take it back now. He shrugged apologetically.

'It woke me up.'

'Sorry.'

'And then I listened at the door.'

The man smiled at him. 'I suppose I shouldn't really expect anything else. I've overheard plenty of conversations that I shouldn't have in the past and usually it wasn't an accident.'

Merlin grinned, feeling proud of the fact that he was already a bit like the man he would one day become.

'Did the Prince hear as well?' the man asked.

'Yes.'

'I bet he loved that.'

'He thinks you're enchanting the King to do whatever you want.'

'He would,' the man muttered. 'But then that's something else you have to learn about Arthur Pendragon. He's stubborn in his loyalty and in his mistrust and sometimes in both at the same time.'

Merlin didn't understand the words, but he somehow knew that they were about the argument before. The man seemed to hunch over again and Merlin felt frustrated that he hadn't been able to help.

'You said you were like brothers,' he ventured carefully.

'In many ways.'

'Well, brothers are part of a family and families always fight. But then they always love each other in the end.'

Again the sorcerer turned round to look at him, again with a smile on his face.

'You know, listening to you, I can see why Arthur thinks I'm wise. You really are a genius. Don't let anyone, especially Arthur, tell you otherwise.'

'I won't,' Merlin replied, smiling to himself as he sensed the warlock's mood brighten slightly. Very soon the trees came to an abrupt stop and Merlin found himself back in the clearing that he had so confusingly ended up in the previous night. It was hard to describe exactly what had happened to him. One moment he had been playing down by the stream and waiting for Will to join him while his mother prepared the dinner, and the next second he had felt something begin to pulse around him as if lightening was crackling on his skin. It had amused him at first and then he had started to worry as his surroundings seemed to fade, like they were ink that had been left out in the sun for weeks. And then another figure had appeared in the haze. He had thought it was a ghost at first and had tried to run away, only to find that he could barely move his body, it had been like he was trapped by an invisible wall.

When he had realised he couldn't run, he had decided instead to watch the figure, to make sure that it didn't try and hurt him, but as soon as he did, he realised that the other figure -a boy he could then make out- was doing the same to him. He had had no idea what was happening and then suddenly everything around him had disappeared. The boy, Arthur, had become as real as he was and the clearing that they now stood in had materialised as if by…well…magic.

The witch –Morgana as he now knew- had quickly captured his attention and he had not allowed himself to look away from her. He had barely been aware that Merlin and King Arthur had been close by, all he had seen were the witch's dark eyes, the hate in them, the way she had looked at him. He had felt the darkness of her magic, had know what her intent was and he had been terrified. The next part -being flung across a strange clearing in the middle of the night and landing very hard on the ground- had been an enjoyable experience by comparison.

'Are you alright?' his older self asked as they dismounted the horse. Merlin nodded. 'Good. I'm going to leave Halesha here,' he explained, stroking the horse's mane affectionately. 'As loyal and brave a horse as she is, she doesn't like this particular friend.' He grinned as he said it and Merlin felt a little suspicious. He recognised that grin and it reminded him of when he and Will played pranks on the village.

'Who is your friend?' Merlin asked slowly.

'Wait and see.' He began to make his way to the middle of the clearing and Merlin jogged to catch up with his long strides. When they were about central, and not far from where the sphere had formed, the warlock stopped and grinned. 'You'll love it when you learn to do this,' he said.

'Learn to do what?'

But the man didn't answer; instead he looked up to the sky and shouted in a deep and strange voice. The words that he used were foreign to Merlin, but they reminded him of the spell that the man had shown him last night in the clearing. They had the same sense of awe attached to them. He looked round expectantly, wondering where this friend would appear from, but nothing seemed to happen. He squinted into the trees, but he couldn't see anything or anyone apart from Halesha.

'Are you sure-' he began, but a noise stopped him from going any further. It was almost as if he felt the noise before he heard it, a deep resounding beat that repeated slowly and steadily. He looked around trying to place its source, but soon it became louder and he knew that it was coming from the sky. He realised what the sound reminded him of now: wing beats, but much much bigger than any bird he had ever seen. With a sense of trepidation he looked up and saw what he hadn't dared to believe was possible.

Above them, its wings sweeping up and down with such force that he felt the gust of wind rush over him, was an enormous dragon. It was hard to tell whether it was fear or awe that made him tremble, but either way Merlin felt his whole body shudder as the creature descended. Its scales glittered; sometimes seeming golden, other times a rich brown and at other times a jewel-like silver. It was beautiful, terrifyingly beautiful, and Merlin couldn't help but take cover behind his older self as the dragon finally landed, shaking the ground beneath them.

'The power of Morgana's magic still fills the air here, young warlock.'

For a moment, Merlin thought the dragon was talking to him and he trembled even more, but it became apparent that that wasn't the case when the dark haired man stepped forward and replied.

'I know. I was hoping that you could help me understand it.'

Merlin felt very exposed now that his protective body had moved and he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He stopped and forced himself to remain still, but so focused was he on the task that he failed to realise that the dragon had not replied. He lifted his eyes and found himself face to face with the creature, its huge teeth less than a metre away, ready to snap him up at any moment.

'What have we here?' the dragon boomed.

'Kilgharrah, let me introduce you to Merlin, six year old Merlin.'

'Fascinating,' the dragon, Kilgharrah, said after a short silence, moving even closer. Merlin closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was somewhere else.

'He won't hurt you,' the warlock assured him, moving to put a hand on his shoulder.

'I know,' Merlin replied. Which was true, he did know that he was in no danger, he could sense it, but the shock of seeing a dragon, a creature which he had been told didn't exist anymore, seemed to be taking over all his emotions.

'An even younger warlock,' Kilgharrah murmured. 'I suppose you want me to help you send him back?'

'Yes, and erm, seven year old Arthur as well,' the man ventured hopefully. 'Can you do it?'

'I have no means of repeating what the witch accomplished. I am powerful, but not in ways which will help in this situation.'

Merlin could sense his older self's dismay at the words. He too felt panic welling up in him. Did this mean that he would never get back to his own time? Never see his mother or Ealdor or Will again? But surely they existed here as well. He could go back there now, but how could he explain? And where did that leave the current Arthur and Merlin?

'Is there nothing you can do to help me?' the warlock asked. 'I'm more powerful than Morgana. I should be able to do what she did, I just don't know how.'

'I have been thinking carefully about it this past night, Merlin, and I can begin to help you, but I can not guarantee success in this matter.' The dragon sounded sad at the words, although it was hard to tell.

'At this point, I'll take even the smallest hint.'

With that, the two of them began talking about things that Merlin just didn't understand. He tried to listen at first, but they were talking about natural magic and combining forces and the past and the present and the future, or all three of them at the same time and it only served to confuse and then alarm him. He sat down on the grass, instead, and just stared at the dragon; admiring his majestic movements and intricate scales. He wanted to reach out and touch the creature's skin, or ask if he could ride on his back, but he didn't dare and so instead he was content to just drink in the sight before him.

At one point in the conversation, however, Merlin felt himself being drawn back in by what the other two were saying. He looked up at them, trying to understand what had caught his attention.

'…didn't see anything that she had on her that would do what you say,' the dark haired man was saying.

'Then perhaps it was hidden. What little I know of time manipulation says that there must always be a magical object that was created at the time you wish to view. It makes sense that she also had something from both your younger self and Arthur's younger self to be able to narrow her search.'

'Do you mean an item, a belonging?'

'No, magic works more deeply that possessions. She would have needed something that is the very essence of self: blood would be most likely.'

'Morgana doesn't have any of our blood.'

'All it would take would be a drop, the smallest remnant. It may have been collected in a battle over a year ago for all you know. Have you and Arthur not bled in the past year and a half?'

'Not with my magical wards in place, but perhaps…' he stopped and frowned. 'It took time to build them up. At first the occasional weapon got through them.'

'You know that Morgana has spies. She could easily have collected what she needed,' the dragon boomed.

'So you're saying that I'll need to find this item, whatever it is, with our blood on in order to re-establish the connection that Morgana made?' the warlock asked slowly.

'Without it, you have no hope of sending your younger selves back to the moment they were taken from. If they arrive back in the wrong place I do not know how time will react.'

'What would it most likely be?'

'Something that was created at the time they were taken from, something transfused with magic. A ring, a weapon, a staff.'

'A pendant?' Merlin asked suddenly. Both the dragon and the warlock looked down at him and he suddenly felt very vulnerable. What if he was wrong? He didn't want to slow them down. There was a long silence.

'I didn't see a pendant,' the dark haired man said with a frown.

'She was wearing it around her neck, a gold one I think, with a jewel in it. It was only small on a thin chain,' Merlin replied quietly. 'I don't think you'd have noticed it from where you were.' The two of them continued to stare at him and he was worried for a moment that he was being silly.

'The object of which he speaks could be used to fix a point in the past. Many magical items have been created in the past, even after the purge. It would not be hard for Morgana to find one, not if she had the time to look,' the dragon explained.

'Did you see anything else on her, anything else that could be the object we're looking for?' the sorcerer asked urgently.

'I don't think so; I only saw the pendant because it was so beautiful.'

'It must be the pendant.'

'But I might be wrong,' Merlin argued. He didn't want to be the reason everything went wrong.

'I've learnt to trust my instincts in the past, Merlin,' the man grinned. 'It's the pendant. And it would be like Morgana to use something of beauty for evil.' Merlin didn't think it would be any use arguing further. Besides, he might be right. 'How do I find her,' the man continued, turning back to the dragon.

'I do not advise that you face her alone,' Kilgharrah answered.

'She's weak and I can not waste time. Do you know where she is or not?'

'I do. I have been searching for her and tracing her movements since last night.'

'Then tell me where she is.'

'I don't think you should go on your own,' Merlin said quietly, repeating the dragon's words. He remembered how powerful the witch had been and how intent on killing them she was. It seemed to Merlin that the King should be on the mission as well. He looked at the dragon, hoping the creature would back him up, but he said nothing, just stared at the boy serenely, which made Merlin even more nervous.

'It'll be quicker if I go on my own,' the man explained to him. 'Merlin, could you go and wait by Halesha please.'

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the man, trying to work out what he didn't want the boy to hear.

'Please,' he repeated.

Merlin thought about standing his ground, but was sure that if it came to it, his older self would just use magic to move him anyway and he didn't want to fall out with himself. With a sigh, Merlin trudged over to Halesha. From this distance, he couldn't hear anything. He could make out the low rumble of Kilgharrah's voice, but nothing of what either of them were saying.

He absentmindedly stroked Halesha's mane, trying to work out how he could stop Merlin from going after the witch on his own, when a voice echoed all around him. He spun round in fright, but saw no-one. Again, the voice spoke, but now he realised that it wasn't coming from all around him, but from inside his head. What was more; he recognised it as the dragon's. He turned to look across the clearing, but both magical creatures seemed absorbed in their conversation.

_Hello?_ he ventured uncertainly.

_Merlin. Merlin is determined to find the witch, Morgana, on his own._

_Oh._ Merlin wasn't sure what to say to that and so just waited. There had to be a reason that an enormous dragon was speaking to him in his head, while not letting the older version of himself know that the conversation was going on.

_You must inform King Arthur of Merlin's plans._

Merlin shot the dragon a look across the clearing, but for all the attention the creature was paying, Merlin might have been invisible.

_I don't want to make him cross,_ Merlin replied hesitantly.

_It would be worse for you if you made me cross,_came the dragon's reply. Merlin unconsciously moved further into the trees. He didn't think that Kilgharrah was being serious, but he didn't really want to test that theory with a creature who could easily eat him.

_Alright. What should I tell him?_

_You must tell him that Merlin has gone to find the witch. She is on the eastern border of the Caleron mountains, by the Pass of the Old Kingdom._

_You're going with him aren't you?_

_I will not get involved with the affairs of kingdoms; I will only guide, as it has always been with the dragons. You must tell King Arthur._

_What if he doesn't believe me,_ Merlin asked, quite certain that it was a possibility. After all, he was a six year old from the past who lived in a small village and kept chickens and slept on the floor. Why would the King of Camelot listen to him?

_You are Merlin. He will listen to you and he will believe you._

Across the clearing Merlin saw Kilgharrah open his wings and with a great leap begin his ascent. Even from where he stood, Merlin could feel the air rush in time with the beat of his wings.

_You're destiny is beginning again, young warlock. Do as I have asked._

_I will,_ Merlin promised as his namesake walked across the grass towards him. He looked sad, but determined.

'Are we going back to the castle now?' Merlin asked hopefully. Maybe the sorcerer had changed his mind.

'You are; Halesha will take you back.' He picked Merlin up and put him into the saddle, shortening the stirrups so that they were the right height for his much shorter legs.

'I don't think you should go on your own. If the King goes he can take some knights and everything. It will be safer.'

'I'll be fine.'

'But how will you get there? You'll need Halesha.'

'I'll be fine. I can use magic to aid me and Halesha will struggle with the terrain anyway.'

'You don't have any food,' Merlin tried; surely there would be some way that he could stop the man from going right now. He just smiled at Merlin and pulled a pack from Halesha's saddle bags and grinned.

'Already stocked up. Trust me, I'll be fine.'

'But the witch is dangerous.'

'Merlin. I'm going now and you're going back to Camelot.'

'What shall I tell the King? He'll want to know where you are,' Merlin asked.

'Tell him the truth: that you don't know.'

'Please,' Merlin whispered, but he knew it was useless. The man gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder.

'I won't be more than a few days. Just tell Arthur not worry, not the Prince –I don't suppose he'll care-, but the other one.'

'He's going to be angry.'

'At me, not you.'

'I am you!' Merlin replied incredulously, which elicited a laugh from his counterpart.

'You'll be fine. I'll see you soon. And remember: don't let the Prince get to you.'

With that he tapped Halesha, whispered a few words into her ear and then took a few steps back. Merlin gave him one last pleading look but received only a wave in return. With a sigh he turned round in the saddle and allowed Halesha to take him back to Camelot, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks again. Let me know what you think of this chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Arthur made little effort to hide his frustration as he walked down the same street in the lower town for the third time. He caught sight of Gwaine at the other end of the road and called him over.

'Anything?'

'Not so far, I've seen plenty of brown haired kids, but I don't think-' he began.

'You'd know if it was Merlin. He looks exactly like him just…shorter. He's even wearing a neckerchief,' Arthur added, rolling his eyes and trying not to panic.

It had been four hours since Arthur's argument with Merlin in the corridor and therefore four hours since Merlin junior had followed after the Court Sorcerer to see if he was alright. It had, however, only been an hour since Prince Arthur had decided to share the second piece of information with anybody and he had only shared it in the end because Gwen had got suspicious of the Prince's story that young Merlin was tired and still asleep.

Arthur had been in a Council Meeting when Gwen had all but burst into the room.

'Guinevere?' Arthur asked.

'My Lord,' she said, slightly breathless, offering a quick courtesy. 'If I might discuss something with you very quickly?'

Arthur had glanced meaningfully at the other council members, but her look of desperation convinced him that something was very wrong. His first thought had been that Prince Arthur had gotten hold of a real sword and stabbed Merlin's younger self. The second was that something had happened to the _real_ Merlin. The Court Sorcerer's absence at the council meeting was painfully obvious, but the other members had sensibly remained silent on the matter.

He left the meeting quickly and pulled Guinevere into one of the side passages.

'What is it?'

'Merlin's gone.'

'I already know that,' Arthur told her in confusion. Hadn't he mentioned earlier that Merlin had stormed off? Perhaps he hadn't.

'No, Arthur, not our Merlin, young Merlin.'

'What?' He hadn't been able to keep the alarm out of his voice. 'When?'

'According to Arthur he followed Merlin after your argument earlier.'

'I thought he was sleeping. Arthur said…' Arthur tailed off at the words, clenching his fists at his sides. 'He didn't tell us.'

'No, he didn't,' Gwen said quietly. Arthur hid his disappointment at the difficulties that his young self was continuing to cause. He ran a hand through his hair.

'Where's Arthur now?'

'In the guest room. I found him some books and things.' Arthur pulled a face.

'That's not going to keep him entertained.'

'Well,' Gwen continued, 'I found some of your old things as well.' Arthur nodded his approval. 'I've asked at the stables and our Merlin went and got Halesha earlier. You said he was going to see Kilgharrah so I assume that's where he is, but he was alone. I asked if there was a boy with him and the stable hands said they hadn't seen anyone else.'

'And he's not in the castle?'

'I haven't seen him. Arthur, I'm worried. Merlin gets into enough trouble now as it is.'

'And six year old Merlin can barely use his magic.'

'We need to find him.'

Arthur had quickly dismissed the Council under some excuse and called together the Knights of the Round Table. He hadn't wanted to involve them -the fewer people who knew the better- but now he didn't have a choice. Keeping the boys safe was the most important thing and the knights were the best means of doing that at the moment. Merlin had to be found.

He had briefly taken a detour to the guest chambers intent on telling the Prince exactly how stupid he'd been keeping Merlin's disappearance a secret, but at the last minute changed his mind. He felt angry and upset with the boy and wasn't sure he could trust himself to say the right thing. Instead he had joined the knights in the search. That had been an hour ago and they still had not found Merlin, young or old. He wasn't too worried about his Merlin, he could take care of himself, but Gwen was right: a six year old Merlin could get into no end of trouble with very little effort.

'Where shall we search now, Arthur?' Gwaine asked. 'He's not in the town.'

'And he's not in the castle.'

Arthur thought quickly, running through the other possibilities. A few people had said that they'd seen a boy earlier, but no-one could tell Arthur where he'd gone.

'We need to widen the search to outside the town walls,' Arthur said with a sigh.

'I'll tell Leon,' Gwaine nodded. 'Don't worry Arthur, Merlin always survives,' he added, slapping Arthur on the back and then jogging off to find the rest of the knights.

Arthur made his way to outer wall gate, but stopped when he saw the familiar horse that was trotting through it. He gave sigh of relief as he saw Halesha and spotted the boy she was carrying. Somewhere along the way, Merlin must have picked up his young self and taken him to see Kilgharrah. Arthur would shout at him later for taking the boy without letting anyone know, but then where was he? Frowning, Arthur looked past the horse, hoping to catch sight of his friend walking behind, but his Court Sorcerer was nowhere to be seen. He walked forward and was met with a nervous smile from Merlin.

'Isn't Merlin with you?' The boy shook his head and said nothing. He looked pale and frightened. 'Is he alright?' Arthur asked, alarm creeping along his back at the lack of response and the evident fear on the boy's face. Merlin took a deep breath, evidently building up the courage to say something.

'He's gone to find Morgana,' he blurted out.

'What?'

'I'm sorry Your Majesty, I really am. I tried to tell him to come back to Camelot first, but he said he could do it alone; he'd even got food and things with him. And the dragon told him where to find Morgana and he's got to go and get the pendant off her so that we can get back, but I don't think it's a good idea and then the dragon talked in my head and he told me to tell you to go after Merlin because he needed help.' The boy stopped there, taking several deep breaths while Arthur tried to process the vast amount of information that had just been thrown at him. He knew what Merlin was like when he wanted to talk and it seemed he'd started the habit when he was young.

'Calm down,' he told the boy.

'I'm really sorry,' he repeated.

'Merlin,' Arthur said gently. 'This isn't your fault. Now tell me again, slowly. Everything that's happened.

By the time Arthur had got all the facts out of the young boy, his knights had arrived. They stared at Merlin with a mix of disbelief and awe, but also a fair amount of amusement as they watched the six year old boy use gestures and phrases that they had seen so often in their friend. It was evident just by looking at there faces that they would be as protective and fond of young Merlin as they were of the _real_ Merlin. Arthur dreaded to think what they'd make of the Prince, whom he was sure they would now want to meet.

His worry over the knights' opinions of Prince Arthur, however, dwindled into insignificance very quickly as he listened to the dark haired boy explain the events of the morning. How could Merlin be so stupid as to go and find Morgana on his own, whether she was in a weakened state or not? She would still prove to be very dangerous. But unbidden the voice in his head told Arthur why Merlin had chosen to go alone and he felt guilt as the revelation begin to build up. Merlin hadn't wanted him there; that was the truth of it. Arthur words from this morning must have hurt more than he'd realised. What was Merlin trying to prove? That Arthur could trust him? That he could put everything right? Either way, going after Morgana alone was never going to be a good plan and evidently Kilgharrah had agreed. Arthur hadn't had much to do with the Great Dragon since he'd changed the laws on magic -the two of them still didn't really trust each other, instead they used Merlin as a middle ground- but he knew enough to trust the creature's judgement on the situation and if he wanted Arthur to go after Merlin then that was exactly what Arthur was going to do.

Arthur knew very little of the place the dragon had mentioned, except to know that it was dangerous and difficult terrain. He could understand why Merlin had sent Halesha back, rather than take her on a treacherous journey into the foothills of the Caleron mountains. But that didn't mean that they couldn't take the horses some of the way and then leave them while they went on into the mountains.

It would take no more than a few days to reach their destination, which meant that in all likelihood they could catch up with Merlin before the day was out. He evidently wasn't expecting them to follow, assuming that they'd have no idea where he was heading; it was only due to Kilgharrah that they had any clue where to look.

'We will leave in an hour,' Arthur said after a long silence. 'With any luck we'll find Merlin before night fall. From there we go with him to find Morgana and retrieve the pendant.'

The knights nodded and headed back into the castle.

'You did well, Merlin,' Arthur said to the young man who was still sitting on Halesha. Arthur picked up the reigns and began to lead the horse on.

'I did try to stop him, I promise.'

'I know,' Arthur nodded. 'Come back into the castle now. Guinevere has been worrying.' 'Did Prince Prat-' the boy stopped abruptly, horror on his face at what he had said. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I meant Prince Arthur, really I did, I-'

'Merlin,' Arthur said with a sigh, trying to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. He was quite certain that the boy hadn't come up with that name on his own. 'It's alright. What was your question?'

The boy looked uncertainly at him and then continued.

'Did Prince Arthur,' he said slowly, 'tell you where I'd gone?'

'He did. Eventually,' Arthur nodded.

'I know I should have said something, but I wanted to catch up and I thought it would take too long otherwise.'

'You shouldn't go wandering about alone. You need to stay safe.'

'I know, but I was with Merlin,' he said hesitantly.

'Just let Guinevere or I know next time,' Arthur told him. He nodded.

There was silence for a while and soon they reached the courtyard. Arthur helped Merlin out of the saddle and then called over a stable hand to take Halesha back.

'Do you think Merlin will be alright?' the boy asked him as the horse was led off. He was still staring after her, unaware that Arthur was already heading towards the main entrance. Arthur stopped and looked back, before walking back to where the boy stood.

'I hope so,' he nodded. 'He normally is.' Arthur felt his shoulders slouch slightly and his head bow as he thought of where his friend was now. He didn't like the idea of Merlin being out there on his own. That was something he had never been able to shake. Even after finding out that his friend was the most powerful sorcerer of the age, he had still worried about him whenever they found themselves in battle or facing some terrible creature. He just looked so powerless compared to the horrors of the world, even if, in actuality, he was more powerful than most of those things put together.

And now…now Merlin _was_ vulnerable. His magical protection currently rested on the dark haired boy at Arthur's side. All Merlin had now were his own powers and whatever he could think to do with them if a problem arose.

Arthur knew that his own magical protection had also gone that night in the clearing, but he had the feeling that Merlin had already begun to restore it. He could sense the magic on him, just the tinniest feeling in the back of his mind. He didn't know when Merlin had begun to restore the wards that surrounded the King, but he was sure that was the case. In any situation, no matter how large or small, Arthur knew that Merlin would not leave him unprotected; it was what experience had shown him time and time again. That truth had been taken to almost fatal extremes on the day that Arthur had finally lifted Merlin's exile and forgiven him.

At his side, Arthur felt a pressure on his hand and looked down to see Merlin's tiny one holding his own. He hadn't noticed the boy doing it. His initial reaction was to shrug it off. Merlin didn't need any encouraging when it came to being overly sensitive. But somehow, coming from a child version of Merlin it felt different. His Merlin would reassure him with encouraging, wise words and selfless actions, but this Merlin, this tiny child who had such familiar eyes and features…this Merlin couldn't do those things; he wasn't that man…not yet, but he still had a need to help people, to comfort them, to make them feel like everything would be alright. Offering a hand to hold was obviously the way that he did it.

'I think he'll be fine,' Merlin smiled. Arthur returned the smile and squeezed the boy's hand.

'I think you're right,' Arthur nodded. 'Come on. I need to prepare to leave, and you need to go and let Guinevere know that you're alright.'

They moved forward, still hand in hand as Arthur guided the boy back into the castle.

* * *

><p>Prince Arthur eyed the reunion between Merlin and Guinevere warily. The boy had been gone nearly the whole morning; surely somebody would get suspicious of him.<p>

'I was worried, Merlin,' Guinevere told him. She crouched down in front of the boy and put a hand on his shoulders. 'You shouldn't leave the castle. It's dangerous.'

'I'm sorry,' Merlin whispered and he actually looked it. So much so that Guinevere gave him a hug!

Arthur rolled his eyes from where he sat on the bed; a set of wooden soldiers laid out in formation on top of the blanket. That was hardly the right way to treat someone who'd been so stupid as to run off.

'If you don't want him to run off, you should put him in the dungeons. That's what I'd do.'

'Well when you're King, you can do what you like, until then you need to remember that I am in charge.' Arthur looked up to see his older self coming through the door and fixing him with a hard stare. 'You lied to us about where Merlin was.'

'It doesn't matter where he is,' Arthur replied angrily. 'He's a sorcerer.' He turned his back on the three people at the door. He didn't have to listen to them telling him off for something that they should already know. He expected them to leave him alone. That's what people normally did, but he heard heavy footsteps and knew that the King had more to say.

'Listen to me,' the man said quietly, but firmly. It made Arthur nervous. 'If you want to get back to your own time then you need to realise that it _does_ matter where Merlin is, both of them, and where you and I are. We are in this situation together, each one of us, which means I should be able to trust you. And I don't.'

Arthur felt fury well up in him at the words. How dare anyone say they didn't trust him, let alone his future self? Didn't the King know how much Arthur loved Camelot? How much he wanted to be a good ruler like his father. He looked around the room and saw Guinevere watching the scene sadly and Merlin standing next to her, his eyes flicking between the floor and Arthur. The sight of him standing there so innocently made Arthur even madder.

'You don't trust me? What about him?' He pointed at Merlin, getting up off the bed and taking a few steps towards the boy before stopping and looking at the King. 'He's the one who ran off, he's the one who wanted to help a sorcerer rather than a king after we saw you arguing in the corridor. He's the one who uses magic!' he finished, yelling the words even louder.

'And you're the one who lied to the Queen!' the King replied, even more forcefully. Arthur stood his ground staring defiantly up at the man.

'Arthur,' Gunivere began, but the King didn't seem to hear.

'Merlin could have been in serious trouble,' the man continued.

'I'm fine, Your Majesty, really,' came Merlin's quiet voice. Arthur felt his annoyance fly even higher at the boy's words. There he was, creeping round the King and Queen again, trying to make himself look good and Arthur look bad.

'I wouldn't care if he was in serious trouble,' Arthur answered, putting his head in the air, refusing to back down. He was not going to be made to feel bad because of a sorcerer. 'He's not my friend and he never will be. As soon as I get back I'm telling my father about him. I already know that he lives in a village called Ealdor. He told me.'

Arthur waited for the rebuke that he was sure was going to follow, but nothing happened. There was just silence in the room. Arthur risked glancing up at the King, but the man wasn't even looking at him; he was frowning as if he was confused by something. Suddenly he straightened up and began looking around the room, until his eyes fixed on Merlin. He walked over to him.

'Is that the name of your village: Ealdor? Is that where you're from?' he asked, his tone urgent. Arthur just watched him. Was he going mad? Merlin seemed equally confused.

'Yes,' the boy whispered. 'I live with my mother.'

'And what's your mother's name?' the King asked.

'Arthur?' Guinevere said; her tone just as serious. 'What is it, what's going on?'

'What's your mother's name, Merlin?'

'Don't you know it?' Merlin asked; genuine surprise in his voice. Arthur rolled his eyes; why should the King know the name of a servant's mother?

'No,' the King whispered. 'I don't remember it.'

'It's Hunith, Arthur,' Guinivere replied sadly. The King looked at her. 'It's Hunith,' she repeated.

And just like that, the man walked out of the door, his wife following him, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone in the room.

'Do you think he's alright?' Merlin asked, looking over at Arthur.

'Don't speak to me, sorcerer. I wish you'd never come back.' Neither of them said anything for a long time, but eventually Merlin spoke up. Arthur didn't look at him.

'Did you really mean what you said? That when we get back you'll kill me?'

Arthur opened his mouth to reply that yes he would, as soon as he saw his father, but he made the mistake of looking at the boy and seeing his frightened face. He thought he'd enjoy seeing him afraid of what could be done to him, but instead Arthur felt strangely unsure. It made him hate Merlin all the more. He was a sorcerer; Arthur shouldn't need to think twice about it.

'Yes, I will,' he replied firmly. He turned away and waited for the boy to beg him to spare his life like he'd seen other people do when his father had ordered an execution, but Merlin didn't say anything. 'Don't you care?' Arthur asked turning round.

'Yes,' Merlin nodded, his voice very quiet, but he didn't look away from Arthur; he kept staring instead as if expecting the Prince to do something or say something.

'What are you looking at?' Arthur asked angrily. Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again.

'Nothing,' he murmured, going over to the window and sitting down in the chair that was there. His lack of response frustrated Arthur even more. Why couldn't he just be like every other boy that Arthur had tormented in the past? Why couldn't he get cross and shout and try and hit Arthur and then end up thoroughly beaten up by said-Prince?

And why…Arthur started the thought, but couldn't follow through with it. He sighed and went over to his bed where the wooden soldiers lay. He picked the first one up and stared at it. They were old and broken now, bits chipped off them and arms missing, but they still had the red capes of Camelot on their shoulders, even if the material was faded and torn.

No-one knew, but he had seen the knights earlier when they walked into the courtyard. He'd snuck into one of the rooms overlooking the courtyard and even from there he'd been able to hear them talking about Merlin, about how much he reminded them of the sorcerer. They had smiled and laughed. They trusted him instantly, thought that he was harmless and innocent. Arthur had been fuming once again at how easily Camelot's finest were being taken in by the boy. What had happened to everyone that a sorcerer was so welcome?

He had been about to leave and go back to the room before Guinevere spotted that he was missing when he saw the King walk in leading Merlin on a horse. Unable to look away, he had seen the man lift Merlin from the saddle, walk back to him when he stupidly stood there staring into nothing and then…then. Arthur looked down at the solider in his hand and grabbed the arm, pulling at it until it snapped. He moved onto the next one and the next one until the soldiers were in pieces on the bed.

Why would a King let a peasant boy who would one day be a powerful sorcerer hold his hand? Why would a King even hold someone's hand? His father had certainly never held anyone's hand, not even his own son's. And yet King Arthur had held Merlin's hand, Guinevere had hugged him when he came into the room and the knights thought he was wonderful. Arthur picked up the remains of the soldiers and flung them against the wall.

Why did they all trust Merlin more than him? Why did they all listen to Merlin more than him?

Why did they all like Merlin more than him?

Looking round he saw Merlin staring at him from the window. He didn't look confused; he wasn't looking at Arthur as if he was an idiot, not exactly. He looked…unsure, like he wanted to say something to…help.

Arthur hated him. Hated him.

'What do you want?' Arthur shouted at him.

Merlin shook his head, sighed and looked away. Arthur turned his attention back to the soldiers, looking at them lying broken in pieces on the floor. He felt like one of them: scattered all over the place; not able to escape; being hurt by people; not knowing what was going on and being unable to do anything to make things right again.

He picked one up and began searching through the tiny wooden pieces, trying to put the soldier back together again.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you muchly for the reviews. They're lovely to read as always! Just to let you know that I might have to change my updates to weekly, so if no new chapter appears on Wednesday, don't worry: there'll be one at the weekend, I haven't disappeared! Anyway, enjoy, and please let me know what you thinK!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

'Arthur,' Guinevere called after him as he all but ran into their room. He heard her close the door behind them, but he didn't look round. Instead he walked from one side of the room to the other, turning and pacing, looking around for inspiration, searching through his mind for some small hint of what he was missing. 'Arthur,' she repeated more firmly.

'I should know that, shouldn't I?' he began. He felt panicked; Merlin had told him that their memories might continue to go, but this seemed quick and he had the impression that this wasn't just one small incident he was forgetting. Somewhere inside him he knew that he had met Merlin's mother and been to Ealdor on more than one occasion. This was a large piece of memory that had gone.

'What do you remember, tell me everything you know about Ealdor and Hunith,' Gwen told him. She seemed calm, but he knew it was just a front.

'I don't remember anything,' he said shaking his head. 'I don't remember ever meeting Merlin's mother, let alone what she's like.'

'But you've met her several times; she's been to Camelot three or four times.'

'I don't remember.'

'And we've been to Ealdor. Not long after you met Merlin, his village was attacked and he went back to help. You went after him, you helped fight of the invaders.'

'I don't remember.'

'We all went; Morgana and I as well.'

'Gwen,' Arthur said quietly. 'I don't remember anything about it.' He sat down at the table and rested his head on his hand. Gwen knelt down beside him, her hand on his arm.

'Arthur, it's alright. It's going to be fine. You'll find Merlin and he'll put things right. It's just one more memory, that's all.'

'But it's not one more, Gwen; it's lots of memories,' he said, trying not to appear desperate, although he felt it. Where was Merlin when he needed someone to reassure him and tell him it would all be alright? 'You say I've met Hunith many times. I don't remember any of them. And Ealdor, you say we've been twice? Why were we there the second time? Was it all of us?'

At his side, Gwen suddenly went very still. Her hand, which had been gently stroking his arm, stopped and her grip tightened slightly.

'You don't remember?' she asked.

'No,' Arthur replied, trying to hide his annoyance. Wasn't it obvious that he didn't remember? 'I told you I-'

'No,' she interrupted. 'I mean. Don't you remember why I was in Ealdor the second time?' She suddenly seemed to have paled and she looked frightened…no, not frightened, more anguished. There was something upsetting her.

'Guinevere?' he asked, turning and standing up, pulling her with him. He wanted to help; he hated seeing her sad. 'What happened? Are you alright?'

'Do you remember?'

'Remember what?'

'Why I was in Ealdor when you and Merlin arrived?' She was close to tears and Arthur wanted to stop them. He looked at her searchingly, and then tried desperately to answer her question, but nothing came to mind.

'When was it? How long ago?'

'When Morgana took the throne with Helios. After Agravaine betrayed you.'

'I remember that,' he nodded.

'Merlin took you to Ealdor, but I wasn't in Camelot at the time,' she continued hesitantly.

'What?' Arthur asked. He shook his head at her, trying to sort through his confusion. When had Gwen ever been away from Camelot? Gwen closed her eyes and he saw crystal tears fall from them. Gently he cupped her face and wiped them away. Whatever it was was hurting her. Something had happened, something serious, something that had affected Guinevere deeply and possibly him as well. But if it was so awful, did he even want to remember it? Especially when it was causing his wife so much pain. 'Guinevere,' he said, lifting her chin. 'It's alright. I don't need to know anything. I trust you.'

'Arthur,' she whispered, shaking her head.

'It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter.' She looked up at him. She didn't look happy; she looked sad, but a different kind of sadness, an old sadness, that Arthur didn't want to push onto her. He pulled her into and embrace and kissed the top of her head. 'I've forgotten more than I realise, haven't I?' he said after a moment. She nodded into his shoulder. 'When I find Merlin, we can put this alright.'

He stepped back and was pleased to see that Guinevere looked a little less upset. She nodded at him, but didn't attempt a smile.

'I think you should write down any key memories, Arthur,' she said after a moment.

'Gwen; this will be sorted out soon. You don't need to worry.'

'Arthur, what happens if you lose an important memory, one that you need to make the right decisions?'

'I only need to wait a few more days.'

'But these memories don't seem to be going in any particular order. You could loose any of them at any time.'

'It won't matter. I just need to find Merlin.'

'No, Arthur, listen to me,' she said more forcefully. The seriousness in her tone caught his attention. 'What if you forget about Morgana turning on you? What if you forget about your young selves even coming to Camelot? What if you forget me or your father or your knights? What if you forget the lessons you've learnt?' she looked at him again. 'You are your memories Arthur. You need to protect them.'

'But-'

'What if you forget what Merlin did? What if you forget what he nearly sacrificed? Arthur; that was the moment that changed your mind about the exile, about magic, about Merlin. About everything. What happens if you forget that moment?'

Arthur dropped his eyes from her gaze.

'I need to leave now,' he told her quietly. 'I don't have time to do that.'

'Arthur, please.'

He shook his head.

'I'll remember.' She looked at him again, pleading in her eyes, but he shook his head. He couldn't do that. It made him feel like he had already lost. It felt like writing his funeral speech -all the moments in his life that had shaped him, there for everyone to see. But those weren't stories for public display; those were personal, intimate glimpses into his very soul. Even if he did have time, he couldn't put his feelings and experiences into any words that would truly bring back how those things affected him. 'I'll remember,' he repeated.

She didn't try to dissuade him again. They had been together for long enough that she knew when she would not convince him, but she made no effort to hide her disappointment at the decision.

'I'm going to go and gather supplies and then we'll leave.'

She nodded. 'Be careful.'

'I will.' He kissed her and then made to leave, but turned back as he reached the door. 'And if Arthur gives you any trouble, just throw him in the dungeons.'

'He's just a boy.'

'Yeah, and it's going to be years before you and Merlin show him what a pain he is so he might as well start learning now,' he smiled. The tension between them eased slightly and Gwen smiled at him.

'They'll be fine,' she assured him. Arthur nodded and closed the door behind him. He quickened his step as he headed down to the armoury; they had wasted enough time already; it was time to go and find Merlin.

* * *

><p>Merlin breathed a sigh of relief as he finally broke through the edge of the forest to look out on the rocky plains that began the ascent up the Caleron mountains. It wasn't that the landscape was particularly inspiring –thick green grass stretched out from where he stood, dotted occasionally with rocky patches which grew gradually larger and more treacherous, swallowing up the grass, as you got closer to the mountain that blocked the horizon up ahead-, but it was a welcome change from the claustrophobic coverage of the trees in the forest. He had been walking through them for several hours and the longer he spent amongst them, the more he felt like he was gradually being suffocated.<p>

Partly, he knew, it was due to the crushing onslaught of his thoughts that had resumed with even more force than they had the previous night after he left Kilgharrah and his young counterpart in the clearing.

Morgana and how he was going to handle her was foremost in his mind, but it was by no means the only issue that clamoured for his attention as he continued to place one foot in front of the other heading for the Pass of the Old Kingdom.

No, Arthur too, featured heavily in his desperate musings. He should have gone back to Camelot and asked the King to come with him; he realised that now. Why, he had asked himself several times, was he walking as fast as he could towards Morgana with no reinforced wards to fend off her attacks, and with no knights to keep her occupied while he found a way to steal a pendant which, in all likelihood, she would have on her person? Yes, her magic may be weakened, but there was no guarantee that she was physically weakened and he knew that if it came down to a sword fight he might as well impale himself and save her the trouble. He shook his head. He was being ridiculous. He did, after all, possess a weapon much more powerful than a sword; his magic could floor her instantly, but even so, he had known swords to slip through his defences on occasion and he was sure Morgana would give it her best shot.

Why hadn't he gone and found Arthur? All he would have had to do was go back with young Merlin. Arthur would have organised the quest instantly. It would have set him back by maybe two hours, if that, and then he would have been able to talk strategy with Arthur, or rather have Arthur talk strategy at him, and would now have felt much more confident about what he was doing. He did hope that Arthur had gone easy on his young self. He could only imagine Arthur's annoyance that he had no idea where his Court Sorcerer was heading and therefore couldn't follow. Was he going to be able to do this without the King?

He shook his head and told himself to stop being stupid. Yes, he couldn't remember the last time he had been on a long journey out of Camelot when Arthur wasn't with him, but no, that did not mean that he couldn't manage on his own; he had been completely alone during his self-imposed exile and he had survived just fine. He rolled his eyes; had it really got to that? Had he really got to the point of needing to delude himself to go on? 'Survived just fine' were hardly words he'd use to describe those six months.

Without meaning to, he dropped into reminiscences of that time. He remembered the bone numbing tiredness that had pervaded his existence nearly every day. He had spent those months living in the forests surrounding Camelot, never wanting to wander far from the city, but unable to hide inside it's walls as he had done in the past when Uther had ordered his execution. But Uther's anger had been distant, impersonal, cold. Arthur's anger had been an entirely different thing. Merlin had felt it, even from outside the walls. The warning bell had rung more often than it ever had done. At first Merlin had thought that it was because the city was under attack, but on his return, when Gaius had filled him in on what had been happening while he was away, the much darker truth was revealed to him.

Arthur had retreated into himself -in a rage that no-one had ever seen- after Merlin's magical departure from the castle. According to what Merlin had found out –before he'd decided to stop asking because the answers always served to make him remember what Arthur had thought of him then-, the King had ordered that every home and building, every dark corner and hidden passage way be searched. And the moment the search finished, he began it again, throwing everything into finding Merlin. He had doubled the size of Camelot's army to ensure that the searches could be ruthlessly carried out and, with any left over soldiers, had set up dozens of daily patrols into the outlying areas in an attempt to catch Merlin.

On more than one occasion, Merlin had nearly found himself caught by a patrol and had had to mutter a quick incantation to either distract them or hide himself. When he had disappeared in the throne room, he had re-emerged in his room, and gathered all his belongings, before finally leaving the castle, which meant that he had had his magic books with him. He didn't know how he would have survived the intense searches of the soldiers and the difficult outdoor conditions without them.

And so, Arthur's anger had settled on Camelot like a cloud, affecting everybody. Even Merlin had been able to sense the turbulence within the city from wherever he found himself. In fact the King's darkness had been so intense, that it had taken Merlin a while to sense the underlying darkness that had nothing to do with Arthur's emotions and everything to do with a magical attack.

It had started like a prickling in the back of his mind, as if something was behind him at all times. Every night he would wake up feeling like someone was watching him, only to cast around frantically in the dark and find himself utterly alone. And then it began to get stronger, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. That's what it was really, it was the only way he could describe it when Arthur had asked much later on. A storm gradually getting closer, but not a storm that could physically be seen, it was a storm of magic; something dark and deadly, like the opposite of who Merlin was. That was what it felt like to him: like the dark to his light; the magic he could sense in it was the exact counter of his own magic. It felt like whatever place his magic came from, this too had arisen there, but to be the other side of it.

Merlin had always said that magic wasn't evil; instead, it was the people who used it that could be evil. It was one of the things that had most frustrated and appalled him when it came to Uther's view on magic. But at that moment, Merlin went back on his principle entirely because the magic that was gradually moving closer _was _evil. It felt it, completely and utterly, but without even the hint of a creature controlling it, human or other.

He had known then, known at that moment, that his exile was over, whether his life depended on it or not. He had said to Arthur as he disappeared from the throne room that he couldn't protect him if he was dead. It was the only reason he had left. But as he began to get a more complete picture of the threat that was making its way towards Camelot he realised that he had reached the point where he could only protect Arthur through his own death. That was the truth of his thoughts at that time. He could feel the power of the malignant aura and he knew that if he managed to beat this thing, he wouldn't survive. It was too strong.

Usually, the understanding that he would have to die to protect Arthur was one which he accepted grimly, but with peace and a contentment that he had never understood. But this time when he realised, he found the knowledge crushing. Not because he considered not doing it, but because in the past Arthur had known who he was, he would have grieved for Merlin, he would have remembered him with great affection, whether he admitted it or not. But Merlin knew that this time his death would not stir the same responses in the King. It wasn't that he wanted Arthur to suffer, of course he didn't, but he did want to feel like his death would matter. He was sure it still would this time, but not in the way he wanted it to. Merlin could imagine lying there, breathing his last having saved Arthur and Camelot again, and then looking up to see Arthur's hate-filled face, smug with satisfaction at his once-friend's fate. He hadn't known whether he could do that, but in the end he knew he would have to risk it; he had to stop whatever the entity was.

The next few days had been the most exhausting, and difficult days of his life. He guessed that he had about a week before the magical storm reached the city and he tried to use the time well. He spoke to Kilgharrah, but the dragon could only tell him that it was a magic as deep as the old religion, one that was believed to have been buried and destroyed long ago. The dragon had been scared. That was what terrified Merlin even more. He had never known Kilgharrah to show fear. Anger yes, but fear? Never. Merlin had asked him to join forces, but he had told Merlin that it would be useless. Humans had been the creators of this dark magic and only their magic would work against it. The knowledge did little to help Merlin; it only served to make his task seem even more impossible.

There were no powerful sorcerers in Camelot. He would have sensed it, he would have known. There was him and him alone and he knew that he wouldn't be able to beat this darkness and live. He had turned his attention instead to bettering it by the tinniest amount. If he died, but defeated it, then it would be a victory and that was what he was aiming for.

Kilgharrah tried to help him, tried to give him enchantments. He boosted Merlin's magical understanding to help him deal with the foe he was facing, but he could hear the dragon's doubt in every word. He had ignored it, choosing instead to focus on stopping the darkness regardless of the consequences to himself. The magical knowledge that he gained during those few days was immense, but it took its toll on his body. Kilgharrah explained that a Sorcerer's body adjusted to the power at its disposal, but only when the increments were natural. Kilgharrah's technique had not been. He had provided Merlin with magical precision and depth and power that he had not gained himself and as such his body began to suffer for it. He was weak, his head felt like it would burst with pain on many occasions and every movement took the greatest of concentration. In the end he had to cast spells on himself to be able to ignore these things and let the damage that was being done to his body continue unchecked. He just needed to make sure he couldn't feel it if he was going to have any chance of completing his task.

At last he could wait no longer. The storm had reached them and Camelot was in danger. Merlin had thanked Kilgharrah -who had then flown off faster than Merlin had ever seen him fly before- and then made his short journey to Camelot.

He hadn't had a plan as to how he was going to get into the city, deciding that when he came to it, he might as well just blast through the gates rather than waste magic keeping a shield in place which rendered him invisible, but in the end he hadn't had to do anything. He had walked straight in without anybody noticing him.

The whole town was in uproar. Merlin had assumed that only he could sense the dark magic that was beginning to simmer above the city, but it seemed that everybody could sense it. The terror that pervaded the air was almost as choking as the darkness itself. People ran around screaming, seemingly having no destination. Others were sat down against walls and doors, huddling next to each other, locked in tight embraces, sobbing desperately. The guards and knights were only marginally better. They had enough calm about them to walk around the town in units and ask questions to the fear-stricken citizens, but the fact that Merlin, the most wanted man in Albion, walked right past all of them was testament to their chaotic state of mind.

He had headed to the courtyard and seen Gaius and Gwen walking across it. Gaius was leading her, although she was protesting, but the physician was firm with her. Even with the crushing weight of the darkness directly above him and the clear knowledge that he was about to die, Merlin had not been able to stop a smile from breaking through his tense demeanour. Without hesitating he had walked over to them.

Gaius had seen him first. The old man had frozen and just stared at him. His expression was one of joy, but underneath it there was a desperate sadness; he knew exactly what Merlin was going to do. Then Gwen had spotted him. Merlin hadn't known what to expect from Gwen. She had been his friend since his first day in Camelot, but she was Arthur's wife, loyal to him above all others and that included Merlin. But to his great relief, she had smiled widely at him, run over and thrown her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, tears streaming down her face.

'I knew you would come back, Merlin,' she told him, her eyes gleaming. She pulled back and looked at him. 'You have my complete trust; you never lost it.' The gratitude that Merlin felt at her words caused his eyes to sting with tears. She must have kept her true feelings from Arthur the entire time; how hard that must have been.

'And Arthur?' he asked, though he knew the answer.

'He will see,' she whispered. 'One day, he will see.' She stepped back and Merlin knew that she believed it. But the fact was that if that did happen, Merlin would not be alive to see it. He didn't say anything, just let her believe whatever she wanted to about why he was here. And then Gaius was hugging him, saying nothing at all, even after six months. He just pulled him close and held him, trying to give him the strength to do what he needed to, as much as it must have torn at the old man's heart to allow Merlin to walk to his death unchallenged.

'Where is he?' Merlin asked Gaius. The physician pointed up to the parapets and Merlin saw Arthur and several knights at the top. By now, the dark magic had collected itself above the castle, shrinking down to a much smaller size to rest only above the area where the King and his knights stood. It seemed to have thickened and deepened in its darkness as well. It swirled like a vortex, drawing people's very thoughts into itself, as if it was trying to pull their souls from their bodies. It was terrifying.

With one final look at Gwen and Gaius, Merlin had headed into the castle, ready to make one last sacrifice for Arthur.

Merlin faltered slightly in his step and admonished himself for allowing such dark recollections to cloud his thoughts. He didn't do it very often, preferring instead to pretend that he had forgotten all about it, but now, with Arthur's words still ringing round his head, still taunting him, he found it difficult not to go back to those times and examine where the rift in their friendship had been created. He had fought so hard for Arthur during his exile; harder, perhaps, than he had ever done before, but nothing he did or said ever seemed to make Arthur understand that.

He kicked at a stone and it tripped along the ground, smashing into the rocky patches that were beginning to thicken. What did he have to do to prove himself? Arthur had let him down more than once and yet Merlin still trusted him completely. He had tried to kill him for goodness sake! And yet Merlin had never once doubted the King that Arthur was and would be. Why, then, did Merlin have to work so much harder to gain his friend's trust?

The truth was that he couldn't put up with the King's mistrust for much longer; he couldn't keep hoping that one day Arthur would really truly believe in him only to keep having the illusion shattered every time a magical issue arose that Merlin struggled with. That was the problem really; it was only ever when difficult magic was involved that Arthur fell back on his misgivings, and it was at those times that Merlin most needed his faith.

Maybe that was why he was on his own heading towards the Pass of the Old Kingdoms, he didn't want to find himself facing something that he couldn't cope with only to have Arthur give him that look of uncertainty, no matter how small it was. Was he trying to protect himself? He sniggered at the irony of protecting himself by leaving himself unprotected.

Whatever his reasons for making this journey alone, Merlin knew he would have to live with the consequences now. He couldn't waste time going back. No, he would face Morgana and he would face her alone.

'Merlin!'

Merlin jumped at the sound of his name being called and turned, squinting back towards the tree line which now lay some distance behind him. As much as he tried to feel annoyed at the fact that he had somehow been found, he could not help but smile when he saw Arthur glaring at him across the distance, the knights just behind.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you again for all the reviews. I think I may have to switch to weekly reviews for the next few weeks at least as I've nearly caught up with myself and haven't got much time to write at the moment. I'll update more regularly as soon as I can!

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

'You know Merlin,' Arthur called as he nudged his horse into a quick trot. It didn't take long for him to draw level. 'Last time I checked, any member of the Royal Court planning to leave Camelot for an extended trip had to inform the King of where he or she was going.' As Arthur swung himself off the horse, the knights came to a stop behind him. 'Does that ring any bells for you?'

Merlin kept a straight face; he always at least tried to deliver his comebacks without a smirk; that came later.

'I think I must have missed that meeting,' he said, his tone serious. 'Was probably on an unsanctioned trip outside of Camelot.' He smiled at Arthur, although it wasn't to its usual intensity, which the King seemed to pick up on because the slightest flash of guilt crossed his face. He quickly covered it by putting a firm hand on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin knew the drill: if Arthur was going to apologise, which wasn't necessarily a guarantee, then he would wait until no-one else was around to hear. Merlin wandered absently if he should apologise; after all, he had shouted at the King, suggested that he would team up with Morgana and turn on Camelot and then all but run off without letting anyone know where he was going. He shook his head. Not this time. Arthur had deserved it.

'How did you find me?' Merlin asked instead as the knights dismounted. 'I covered my tracks with magic.'

'We noticed,' Sir Leon nodded.

'Good job we weren't tracking you then isn't it,' Gwaine added, coming round and giving Merlin a slap on the back and a wide smile.

'But…' Merlin tried.

'Merlin told us,' Arthur answered in the end.

'He didn't know where I was going.'

'No, but Kilgharrah did,' Arthur replied. Merlin frowned at him for several seconds and then realised his own stupidity. Of course Kilgharrah had told young Merlin; he'd thought it was odd that the dragon had given up arguing with him so quickly when Merlin had insisted on going alone.

'Honestly, Merlin, what exactly were you thinking?' Arthur asked him, looking at Merlin again like he was an idiot. Merlin decided it wasn't a good idea to fill Arthur in on exactly what he had been thinking as he was sure that would not help either of them to move past the issue of this morning.

'I was thinking that I'm a powerful warlock and you haven't got any magical protection on you at the moment so I didn't really want to risk the life of the King.'

'That's touching Merlin,' Arthur said, clearly unconvinced, 'but we both know that you've restored some of my magical wards and even if you hadn't, the knights are covered in them. They can help.'

'The wards on you at the moment will barely do anything,' Merlin pointed out. 'And I can handle Morgana.'

'Merlin,' Arthur continued, lowering his voice slightly. 'We have always faced Morgana together. So stop making excuses and start saying thank you to us for coming after you.'

'Thank you,' Merlin nodded, and he knew that he meant it. Even having them all next to him made him feel more confident that they would find the pendant and get back to Camelot to put this whole mess right.

'That's better,' Arthur nodded. 'Now, let's go. Merlin filled us in on some of the details, but he seemed even more confused and scared than you normally are, so we'd appreciate a more thorough explanation.' Merlin nodded and explained everything that Kilgharrah had told him while they went back to the forest and tied up the horses. The animals would be alright there for a few days while they went and found Morgana. There was plenty of grass and a stream, and wolves were not known to live in this area. It took a while until everything was ready, but before too long they set off, heading closer to the Pass of the Old Kings, and Morgana.

* * *

><p>Arthur lifted his head from the pillow and listened intently for what felt like the hundredth time since he had been all but sent to bed by Guinevere. He was waiting for the stupid sorcerer to fall asleep, but for some reason the boy just stayed stubbornly awake. Arthur could hear him tossing and turning. If it wasn't for the fact that he needed Merlin to actually go to sleep, Arthur would have thrown something very hard at him by now, but the only way that would work to his advantage was if he actually managed to knock the boy unconscious and all he could really find to throw at him was a cushion which he didn't think would do the trick.<p>

Now, though, when he listened, the breathing from the other bed was deep and steady. Perfect. As quietly as he could, which was very because of all his training, Arthur pushed back the covers and got out of the bed. He was still fully dressed, having gotten into bed like that while Merlin was saying goodnight to Guinevere –he had actually gone to find her and say goodnight! Arthur just wanted to shake them all and tell them exactly how Merlin was playing them.

Edging gently across the floor in the darkness, Arthur moved towards the door and pushed his ear against it to listen. He cursed as he heard the familiar clinking of metal as the guards outside the door shifted slightly in their chain mail. Inwardly cursing, he looked around the room again. It did have an attached room and he was sure that there was a passage from there to another room further round the corridor. King Arthur would have known about it, but perhaps Guinevere didn't. Maybe that entrance was unguarded. Picking up his boots from where they sat by the door, Arthur made his way into the adjoining chamber and searched along the wall for the entrance to the passage. He felt the tapestry that hung in front of it and quickly swung it out of the way. He smothered a cough as he breathed in dust, but then quickly felt his way along the passage.

It took only a minute or two to reach the other side and stumble out into the room. He stayed very still for a moment. He hadn't considered the possibility that someone might actually live in the room, but it seemed deserted. Quickly he slipped on his boots and then tip-toed his way to the door. This time when he listened he couldn't hear anybody on the other side, but it was still with great caution that he turned the handle and peered through the gap.

He grinned when he saw the corridor empty of anybody, guards or otherwise. More confidently now, he made his way around the corridors and down through the castle levels. He knew that the main entrance would be heavily guarded and so he used the smaller and lesser used servant corridors instead. He saw no-one and no-one saw him. In less than five minutes he was in the stables, admiring the horses that were kept there and choosing one for himself.

Having been around horses since before he could walk, Arthur was already more than capable of riding them with a skill and dexterity that most people would struggle to achieve even after years of practice. Preparing a horse, on the other hand, was a completely different matter. The fact was that usually someone did it for him. He had planned on going into the stables and riding out of them in less than a minute, now he would have to get the creature saddled. It wasn't that he hadn't done it before, but he was nowhere near as skilled in doing it as the stable boys would be. He momentarily considered going and finding one, but decided that they would probably report him –even though he was the Prince and the horses belonged to him any way- and then Guinevere would come and take him back to the room and post guards everywhere. That was something he didn't want.

No, this was meant to be a chance for him to get away from her watchful eye and instead keep his own watchful eye on his future self and his so called friend the Sorcerer. He would prove to all of them that Merlin was a fraud. Somehow he would stop this man from destroying the future of Camelot. If his older self couldn't see the enchantment that he was under, then Arthur would make sure he put a stop to it himself. This was not the future that he wanted for himself and he was going to make sure that it didn't come about.

After a frustrating few minutes, which involved climbing onto and falling off a stool several times while the horse just looked at him, Arthur managed to saddle the creature and climb up. The horse he had chosen was not one that had been bred for speed, but for stamina. He could tell by the stockiness of the creature and its gentle manner. In this light it looked to be completely black, but he thought their might be a few lighter patches on its back and legs.

Whispering soothing words to the creature, he started to nudge it out of the stables when a sudden noise caused the creature to take a few halting steps back. Arthur stayed very still, gently stroking the horse's mane to calm it, while peering suspiciously into the darkness.

'Who's there?' he asked quietly, but with as much authority as he could muster. Slowly, a shadow detached from the wall to reveal Merlin standing at the stable entrance looking at him with a frown of confusion. Arthur glared at him and debated whether or not to just charge at him with the horse, but decided it would take too much explaining later on. 'What are you doing here?' he hissed.

'I followed you. What are _you _doing here?' Merlin replied smoothly, stepping a little closer, although Arthur could see that he was doing so cautiously; evidently he too thought that the Prince might decide to trample him.

'I don't have to explain myself to you. Get out of my way.'

'Are you going after the King and Merlin?' he asked, ignoring the threatening tone in Arthur's voice.

'Why do you care?'

'Because I'd like to come with you.'

Arthur just laughed at him. As if he would ever let that boy tag along with him. He was hardly going to help Arthur break the enchantment on the King and expose old-Merlin's true motives. And what's more, Arthur hated him; they weren't going to wander off across Albion together.

'There's no way you're coming with me.'

'I could be useful,' Merlin argued. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

'If you use magic around me, I'll beat you up. There's no-one to stop me now.'

'I don't mean magic. I can't do very much of that yet. I mean I could help you to find them and I'm good at looking after horses. I used to look after them when the traders came to our village. And I'm also good at map reading-'

'I haven't got a map. I know where the Caleron Mountains are.' He smiled smugly at Merlin's surprised expression. 'Yes, I found out where they were going. It's easy enough to listen in on conversations when it's your own castle that you're being kept in.'

Arthur waited for the boy to mutter some stupid comment.

'You mean you don't know exactly where they're heading?' Merlin asked with a laugh. 'You're just going to head towards the mountains and hope that you find them?' With a click of the horse's reigns, Arthur sent the creature heading towards Merlin, wanting to scare him into being silent. The boy didn't look too concerned and Arthur had to pull the horse to a stop again.

'I'm an excellent tracker. I'll be able to find them.'

'What if Merlin's covered their tracks with magic?'

Arthur opened his mouth to reply when he realised that he hadn't thought of that at all. What if that was true? And was Merlin telling the truth? Was there a destination they were heading for that he hadn't heard when he was eavesdropping on the talk between the knights earlier? He studied the boy quickly and was annoyed to see something like a smirk on his face. Digging his feet into the horse's flank he directed it out of the stables.

'I know where they're going,' Merlin called after him quietly.

'I don't need your help.'

'If you don't take me with you I'm going to tell the first guard I find what's happened and they'll catch you before you've even got to the gate,' Merlin said in return. Arthur stopped the horse abruptly. Maybe he could still trample the boy with the horse. But that would just slow him down. He took several deep breaths and then, seething with anger, turned the horse around and trotted back to where Merlin was. The boy wasn't grinning at him, or acting like he'd won; he was just waiting for Arthur's reply.

'Why do you want to come?'

'Merlin said that it was his job to protect Arthur. So that means it's my job to protect you.' Arthur looked the boy up and down, doubting very much that this scrawny, feeble peasant could protect him from anything. Was Merlin really that stupid? And did he really want to protect Arthur; a person who hated him more than anyone else?

'I don't need your help.'

'You've got it anyway,' Merlin replied.

Arthur thought it over for several seconds. If he could just knock Merlin out with something then he'd be miles away before the alarm was raised, but what if the boy regained consciousness really quickly? With a heavy sigh he nodded.

'Fine,' he muttered, 'but if you fall off, I'm not coming back for you.'

'I won't fall off.'

He hoped onto the wall outside the stables and waited for Arthur to manoeuvre the horse next to it. Reluctantly Arthur did so. Quickly Merlin climbed into the saddle and then put his arms around Arthur's waist.

'I didn't say you could touch me.'

'Just go,' Merlin said quietly.

'I didn't-'

'You're just wasting time. Do you want to catch up with them or not?'

With something akin to a growl, Arthur gave up and urged the horse forward. He had a feeling that he could argue with Merlin until the sun came up and the boy still wouldn't let go of his waist. He was determined to come along for the ride, but there was nothing to say he wouldn't get lost on the way, Arthur mused to himself.

He put aside the irritation of Merlin for a minute and considered his next move. He knew that going to the main gate would get them noticed and so instead he headed for the east entrance, certain that there would be fewer guards and that, judging from the time, they would soon be changing shifts. As he approached, he could not stop a grin from covering his face as he watched the men begin to move away from the gate. He knew that the next two wouldn't be there for a few moments. Arthur took his chance and settled the creature into a gentle canter which echoed far too loudly on the cobbles for his liking, but no-one appeared to challenge him. With a grin, he snapped the reigns. The horse sped into a gallop, Merlin's hands tightened around his waist, while the countryside rushed away beneath them.

* * *

><p>Merlin peered into the darkness, alert for any sound or movement. They had travelled for several hours after Arthur and the knights had caught up to him, but had been forced to stop well before night fall to avoid falling and injuring themselves on the uneven terrain of the foothills of the mountain. Merlin had managed to draw the short straw and get the very early morning watch. Dawn was still a few hours off and it was cold. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, but resisted the urge to relight the fire that had burnt low a few hours before.<p>

The sound of stirring in the camp caught his attention and he sensed someone moving towards him. Instinct told him it was Arthur and he soon made out the King's silhouette in the dull moonlight. Merlin didn't think it was time for a shift change yet, but perhaps it was later than he thought. But to his surprise, Arthur didn't offer to take the watch, or suggest that Merlin get some sleep. He just sat down close by saying nothing.

They hadn't really spoken about the argument the previous morning. The first few hours had been spent talking strategy and after that, with the knights around, Merlin hadn't felt like bringing it up, which he was sure was the same for Arthur. Maybe now though, he had decided to say something. Merlin was a little unnerved by it. Arthur tended to let these things lie and then carry on as if nothing had happened. Merlin had been more than happy to do the same.

'Can't you sleep?' Merlin ventured quietly.

'Not really,' he sighed. 'I'm worried that if I go to sleep, I'll forget more things.'

'I don't think that's how it works.'

'At least this way I feel like I'm doing something to avoid loosing them.' A silence fell over them, but it was heavy with worry and words that wanted to be spoken. Eventually Arthur carried on again. 'I don't remember your mother, or Ealdor,' he admitted. Merlin wasn't surprised. He had noticed certain blank spots in his own memory during the journey.

'Have you forgotten anything?' Arthur asked as if reading Merlin's thoughts.

'I don't remember yours and Gwen's wedding,' he replied quietly. 'I'm assuming I was invited.'

'Yes. Gwen insisted.'

Merlin smiled.

'Anything else?' Arthur continued.

'I'm sure I've forgotten some of the magical attacks from my first few years. Was there a troll at some point?' he asked, furrowing his brow; somehow it seemed familiar.

'Now that,' Arthur groaned, 'is a memory I'd quite happily forget.'

'I won't ask then. I think most other things are still there. Although I don't remember meeting Gwaine and I can't remember what happened to Lancelot.'

'Neither can I,' Arthur agreed, although the way he said it made Merlin think that he'd only just realised that that memory was gone. 'Didn't he seal the veil and stop the Dorocha?'

'Yes, but he came back again,' Merlin replied.

'Yes, I remember.' Merlin heard the clink of chain mail and could just imagine Arthur rubbing his face in frustration. 'I don't know what happened after that.'

'Nor me,' Merlin sighed. More silence and then more words from Arthur.

'This isn't good Merlin. I keep trying to remember Ealdor and I just…can't.'

'At least you remember the name,' Merlin offered.

'I didn't though. Merlin…little you, told me. Actually it was little me. He's a real pain you know.'

Merlin laughed. 'Who'd have guessed when you were always so pleasant and polite?'

He felt a fist connect with his upper arm, but it was gentle and playful. It made Merlin feel like they were back years ago, before everything was revealed. Before everything changed.

'I'd love to say that your young self was as irritating as you are, but he just isn't,' Arthur continued. 'What happened to you during the years in between?'

'It's just your skewed perception,' Merlin grinned. 'I bet young Arthur thinks little me is irritating.'

'He definitely does,' Arthur sighed.

'Are you sure it was alright to leave them together?' Merlin asked. He said it lightly, but somewhere underneath he did feel a genuine pinch of worry for his namesake.

'They'll be fine. I've known you for years and I haven't killed you-' Arthur stopped abruptly, and Merlin guessed why. An uncomfortable silence descended on them, but Merlin wasn't sure how to break it or even if he wanted to.

'Merlin-' Arthur began.

'Really, Arthur; it doesn't matter,' Merlin interrupted. He had sat through many of Arthur's terrible apologies. Normally the sight of his friend uncomfortably struggling for words and looking very much like he'd rather fight an angry dragon than utter a sorry, cheered Merlin no end, but this time it felt much deeper than all of their other stupid fights.

'No, listen, just let me explain.'

'I already know.' Merlin sighed and avoided Arthur's gaze. 'You've forgiven me, you understand why I did what I did, but you can't completely trust me.' He stopped and looked up at Arthur for confirmation. The dropping of the King's eyes to the ground assured Merlin that he had got it spot on. 'It's alright.'

'No, it's not,' Arthur argued, raising his voice. At a stirring from the sleeping knights behind them, he lowered his voice. 'It's not.'

'I understand. I lied to you for nearly six years, I used magic nearly everyday and I made some stupid mistakes in the process.' Merlin looked up towards the stars, marvelling at the distance between them and him; wishing for their cold distance from the situation, but it was impossible.

'I'm not going to lie to you and say that you're wrong,' Arthur began slowly and Merlin wished he'd just gone and lay down when Arthur came over. 'But you need to understand that I don't want to have this…mistrust of you. If I could find a way to get rid of it then I would, in an instant.'

'Maybe you'll loose your memories of me having magic,' Merlin murmured sadly.

'Don't be stupid Merlin, that doesn't solve anything. And whether you believe me or not…I'm actually glad that you have magic' he added; his disbelief that he had actually said the words and meant it evident in his tone of voice. 'And…' he sighed and Merlin looked across in surprise; he had thought that was it. '…you were right not to tell me all those years.'

'What?' Merlin asked, maybe not shocked that Arthur thought that, but definitely surprised that he had admitted it.

'We both saw how I reacted, Merlin; and that was after years of being friends and right after you'd just saved Gwen's life. There was never a good time to tell me. You're probably only alive now because you managed –and I still have no idea how- to keep it a secret for so long.'

They were quiet for a while, but Arthur quickly grew irritated by it.

'Merlin, will you say something!'

'Say what? That I'm really pleased everything came out when it did because any earlier and you'd definitely have tracked me down and killed me? I always knew that keeping it a secret was the best thing, if not I'd have told you.'

'You never once considered telling me?'

'Yes I considered it, but like you said; it would never have ended well. I needed to protect you and I needed you to trust me. Neither would have worked if you'd known.'

More silence and more frustrated sighs from Arthur.

'The thing is, Merlin, I know in my head that I can trust you. I know it completely. I just…' at this he stood up and began pacing the ground in front of Merlin. It made Merlin exceedingly nervous; he had seen Arthur pace on many occasions and it was never a good sign. 'Why is it that I can know something so clearly in my head and yet still not truly feel it?' He looked at Merlin, but the sorcerer was relatively sure that no answer was expected. 'And most of the time, it's not even an issue and then something will happen –like this- and I have to fight for what I know is true again. Why is that?' This time he stopped and looked at Merlin for longer, but his words had lightened Merlin's mood somewhat. No, it wasn't the unfailing trust that he wanted from Arthur –and knew he deserved-, but it was evidence that Arthur was trying to get to that point and that, at least on some level, the King knew that he could trust his friend.

'Well I always thought you were an idiot,' Merlin began in answer to his question, 'and this just proves it.' Arthur fixed him with a look that very much suggested he wanted to throw something, but in the end settled for a somewhat affectionate shake of his head and a smile. Merlin knew why; they had forgiven each other for the argument, even if neither of them had got the answer they really wanted.

'I always _knew_ that you were an idiot,' Arthur eventually replied.

He sat down beside Merlin once again and they sank into a silence that was at last a comfortable one. On the horizon the sky began to lighten by the tinniest amount. The sign of a new day.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: On holiday next week, so updates should be back to twice a week. Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 <strong>

It was in the dawn light that they packed up camp and continued their journey into the foot hills. The Pass of the Old Kingdom was not many hours away and Arthur was confident that they would reach it before the sun was at its peak. They had all gone over their plan once more as they sat and ate a meagre breakfast of dried fruit, nuts and bread.

The plan was a vague one at best, mainly because they had no idea what to expect. According to Merlin, Kilgharrah had followed Morgana after the night in the clearing and he was certain that she had been unaware of her stalker who soared hundreds of feet above her head. He had traced her to the Pass of the Old Kingdom, but because that area was the impasse between two of the Caleron Mountains, it was all but impossible to keep sight of someone after they had entered it. Kilgharrah had circled high above for several hours to see if she re-emerged and had seen nothing to suggest that she had. His inference, and one that Arthur agreed with, was that Morgana already had a hideout in the area. Over the years they had found several similar places, but had never had any luck in tracking down Morgana within them; it seemed that she could tell whenever one had been found because, despite months of posting guards to spy, she was never sighted.

Merlin had suggested that there could be an enchantment that she was using to tell her when she had been discovered and since then he had come up with a spell that he thought would stop her from becoming aware. Whether it worked or not, Arthur had no idea, and knowing Merlin it probably wouldn't work as they all expected it to, but either way they had not had chance to test it yet. Merlin had told then that he intended to try it this time.

And so they were trudging towards the Pass with their only real plan of attack being trying to find her and then hoping Merlin's magic would disguise their presence. The sorcerer had also informed them that Morgana probably had magical traps in place to stop unwanted guests; information that Arthur wasn't pleased about, but was far from surprised at. There had been a number of occasions when they had scouted out a safe house of Morgana's and lost men to strange traps and sudden misfortunes. That happened less frequently now, mostly due to Merlin's required presence when any of these missions presented themselves. Arthur didn't understand it, but Merlin said that he could sense when there was going to be a magical attack. He usually said it as more of a question and with such confusion on his face that Arthur had doubted on more than one occasion that Merlin could sense an entire army running at him with swords let alone a subtle magical trap, but as always, the man had proven his skills and saved several lives in their quest to try and hunt down Morgana.

The Pass of the Old Kingdom was not somewhere that Arthur frequented regularly, in fact he could only remember going there once or twice in his life; that was assuming, or course, that his missing memories weren't about frequent trips to the treacherous place. And treacherous it was. If you went the right way, it was the quickest way to get to the other side of the Caleron Mountains, but the entire place was a vast maze of valleys and trenches, twists and turns and any number of dead ends. Not to mention the fact that rock falls were a notorious problem. Arthur guessed that that particular hazard would only get worse if Morgana and Merlin started flinging magic at each other.

To say that Arthur was feeling confident about the upcoming excursion would have been relatively close to lying; it was more that he felt grim determination to see it through. If they could get hold of the pendant then hopefully it wouldn't be much longer until they could get their lives and memories back as well. Merlin had told them that he would be more able to determine what Morgana had done if he had the object which she had used to tear a hole through time. Something about magic being embedded within things, leaving a distinct trace…Arthur wasn't sure, he hadn't really been listening to that bit knowing that he'd be absolutely no use in sorting it out.

In himself, Merlin did seem more confident, which Arthur was pleased about. The defeatist air that had so confused and frustrated Arthur during their argument seemed to have evaporated and the King didn't know whether it was to do with their conversation last night or Kilgharrah's help or the fact that they finally had a possible way of solving the problem. Whatever it was, Arthur didn't mind; he was just glad to have Merlin back with an attitude and stance that was familiar once again.

They continued on as the sun rose higher and the day became warm and clammy. It was better than having to navigate the foothills -and eventually the Pass- in wind and rain, which would have made the attempt even more treacherous, but it made for very laborious and uncomfortable travel and seemed to sombre everyone's mood, with the exception of Merlin who, free of chain mail and armour, strolled along steadily and with little hindrance.

It was not far off midday when they finally did reach the entrance to the Pass. The few hours before had given them plenty of time to contemplate the impressive structure. They had been following the base of the mountain round for the majority of the morning, but had also been climbing higher with every step, seeing the formidable face of the mountain loom up ahead of them. Most of the journey had been on a steady incline, not steep, but sharp enough to force them to rest several times, but eventually they reached a height where the mountain face flew upwards, sheer and unclimbable, almost as if a giant sword had swung down on the mountain and sliced it like butter. The rock was black, the colour broken only by sickly looking mosses and plants that had attempted to eek out a living in the unforgiving rock.

On reaching the sheer face, they had been forced to stay on the same level but continue their journey round to the pass. This had been by far the most difficult part. The path that they were on fluctuated between being wide enough to walk all of them side by side and narrow enough to force them to walk with their back to the rock face and inch their way along the tiny ledge under their feet. More than once Arthur had seen one of his men's feet slip before being slammed back into place as quickly as they could manage. Merlin, light and wiry as he was, caused Arthur no such concern, although the King frequently imagined the scenario of his friend plunging to his death before he ordered his mind to worry about things that were actually happening.

They continued like that until eventually the Pass came into view. It was formed as a result of a second mountain seeming to have all but crashed into the one they were currently on, or maybe it had initially been one mountain which a series of rivers had then cut through and torn apart through slow and steady erosion. However its creation had come about, it looked impressive: arches of rock were strung out between the mountains all over the place and the surfaces that they could see twisted and turned with beautiful patterns.

Up ahead, Merlin -for they had decided that he should be the first one to enter the Pass and test his abilities with sensing magical danger- had stopped and was staring at the place in awe. It didn't take long for the others to reach him, stopping while they waited out Merlin's moment of childlike wonder.

'I don't want to hurry you Merlin,' Arthur started, 'but you are the Sorcerer here and therefore should probably be checking for traps right now, rather than gawking.'

'Right, yes,' Merlin nodded, although it took several seconds for him to draw his eyes from the view and begin to mutter some words under his breath. Arthur saw the glow of gold in his eyes and watched as his friend lifted his hand out towards the Pass. He stayed still for a moment and then a shudder seemed to pass through him.

'Merlin?'

'The entrance is guarded with an enchantment,' he said slowly.

'Can you break it?'

'I think so, but I need to get closer.'

They continued along the ledge, which was wide enough now to feel less perilous as they walked along it, and soon came to the place where it disappeared into the wall of the mountain leaving them no choice but to scramble down the rather steep incline that led to the flat ground of the Pass entrance. Once there, Arthur and the Knights hung back, while Merlin moved cautiously closer, his hand outstretched and his mouth constantly moving as he worked to break through Morgana's trap and, hopefully, shield their presence from the witch's senses.

It seemed like hours that Merlin stood there, his low voice fluttering towards them on the breeze that rushed out from within the pass. It made the whole situation rather eerie and Arthur had to force himself to remain where he was rather than step back.

'Sire,' came a quiet voice from behind him. He turned to see Leon looking pensively at him. 'I think it may be best if we split into two groups once inside the Pass. It could take days if we stay together.'

'No,' Arthur told them firmly. 'The risk is too great of we split up. Without Merlin we will be unable to sense Morgana's traps or fight her if she should reveal herself.'

'Merlin is sure that Morgana is weakened,' Elyan added. 'Without her powers she will not be a match for us and if she's guarded the entrance this strongly then perhaps there are no further traps. Who would she expect to get through?'

'She'd expect Merlin to be able to,' Arthur replied, although he agreed with Elyan that if Morgana truly was weakened then facing her would not be as much of a danger as it always had been in the past. 'No,' he said after a moment, weighing up all that had been said. 'Our safest bet is to stay together. If we find out that Morgana is indeed weakened and has left no more traps then perhaps we will be able to separate, but until then we need Merlin with us.'

'Yes Sire,' Leon nodded, the other knights muttering similar responses.

Eventually Merlin turned round. Arthur was concerned to see how tired he looked all of a sudden. It was rare that anything magical ever took its toll on the man.

'Is it done?' Arthur asked him. He nodded.

'We can get through and Morgana won't know that we are here unless she sees or hears us. He walked over to them and then laid his hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur went to shrug it off, slightly confused by the move, but at that moment Merlin started uttering several sentences in magic, his focus on Arthur uncomfortably intense and his eyes glowing gold. Seconds later he stepped back.

'What were you doing?' Arthur asked him, suppressing the urge to sigh.

'That's all the magical protection I can give you. You should be safe from anything minor that she throws at you and she'll struggle to hit you physically with anything. I've been re-establishing the wards for the last day or so.'

'I know,' Arthur nodded, 'and thank you, but Merlin have you put any on yourself?'

'Nah,' Merlin shook his head, his tone flippant. 'I'll be fine.'

'Merlin.'

'I will be. I'm the Sorcerer remember. If she goes for me I'll give as good as I get, probably better.'

His worried face completely ruined the carefree attitude that he was evidently going for, but Arthur let it lie.

'Alright,' he said, turning to the knights. 'Let's go.' Quickly and quietly they disappeared into the Pass.

* * *

><p>The air within the Pass felt like it was laced with magic to Merlin, although he doubted that any of the others could sense it. To him though, it felt like he was walking through a thin mist of magical remnants. It wasn't strong and it wasn't distinct, but it was there, colouring everything. He got the feeling, however, that it wasn't meant to be like that. Why would Morgana taint the air with magic? No, it felt to him that the magic had drifted from where it was supposed to be and, as they got deeper into the Pass, he began to form a theory on why that might be.<p>

Initially, when he sensed the power of the enchantment that had been on the entrance, he had worried that Morgana would have riddled the many passages and turns with magical traps that would force them to stop and rethink every few minutes, but now he wasn't so sure. Yes, the entrance had proved to be tricky, Morgana had built up many layers of spells that intertwined and twisted like a maze so that Merlin had had to follow each one to a starting point and disable them individually with a counter spell. However, the spells there had been ones that had been built into the rock face, meaning that they would be there at all times, whether Morgana was there or not.

What Merlin guessed about inside the pass was that Morgana had set up the traps within to be held in place by her own magic, drawing power from her when she was in the vicinity. That way she could drop them when they weren't needed. It made sense really; even sorcerers had to avoid being caught in their own magical traps, which was hard to do if they were permanently in place. It would make navigating the Pass a long and arduous process, having to constantly take down and replace an enchantment whenever you wanted to move around. But if you used enchantments that drew on your power -and then only when you wanted them up- it would make things so much simpler.

That's what Merlin guessed that Morgana had done in the Pass of the Old Kingdom; she had installed one permanent barrier to keep people out, but had made the rest temporary and linked to herself, to save herself the hassle of having to navigate round them. Now, though, Merlin guessed, she wasn't strong enough to keep all of her traps in place and as such the magic was just floating uselessly through the air until its wielder had regained enough strength to form it into something that even vaguely resembled a trap.

It made Merlin feel a whole lot safer. He tried to explain his suspicions to Arthur, but the man had look so confused by his explanation that he had given up and just told him that there were no traps and that Morgana was definitely weak.

'So, what?' Gwaine asked. 'Are we safe from being thrown up against a rock when she sees us? Because believe me, that hurts.'

'She's so weak that I don't think she'll be able to lift you, not with all the magical protection you have on you anyway,' Merlin explained.

'Are you saying it's safe for us to split up?' Arthur asked him cautiously.

Merlin went through his suspicions once again, weighing up the evidence around him to check that he was giving an accurate answer.'

'As far as I can tell, yes,' he nodded. Arthur held his gaze for several seconds, making his decision carefully and with precision. Merlin liked to see that expression on his face. He saw the Kingship of Arthur summed up in that expression, balancing wisdom with risk and concern.

Eventually he nodded.

'Very well. It will be much quicker to split up.' He nodded at Leon as he said it.

Merlin knew how the divide would go before Arthur began to organise it; it was always the same. He and Arthur would stick together and the knights would form either one group of four or two pairs. It wasn't that Arthur particularly liked that arrangement; Merlin knew for a fact that he hated being away from his knights on missions, but they would no sooner let the King be in a group without Merlin than they would cut of their own arms. The fact was that Arthur was safest with Merlin and that there was no point in leaving a knight with the two of them when Merlin offered all the protection that would be needed, especially coupled with Arthur's swordsmanship. In fact, it would be irresponsible of them to leave a knight with Merlin and Arthur, when that knight would be much more useful in the other group to make it as strong as it could be without a sorcerer in it. Merlin often found himself smiling at the complete turn around of roles: before his magic had been revealed Arthur would just slot Merlin into a group at the end.

They quickly outlined a plan. They would split into three groups and search out separate parts of the Pass. Each group would mark their route by etching arrows on the walls with sharp pieces of rock –with the exception of Merlin who would use magic- to ensure that no-one got lost in the endless passageways as so many travellers had done in the past. They would make sure that they were at the entrance to the Pass again by dusk and if any of them found Morgana their only objective was to get the pendant. If they could capture her then they were to do so, but not unless it was a near certainty. With everyone aware of the plan they bid quick farewells and split up.

The tunnels and pathways of the Pass were nothing if not monotonous. Merlin felt like he had walked down the same three paths hundreds of times, but his continual marking of the wall with arrows told him otherwise. The steep, black walls rose up on either side of them at all times, sometimes only two or three times their height, sometimes climbing hundreds of metres into the air. Ledges and overhangs were dotted along the routes at regular intervals, usually hanging precariously, looking like they were ready to fall at any moment. Merlin tried not to think about it, but went over several spells in his head that could prove useful in the event that he and Arthur were covered in rocks; he still didn't particularly want to test them, however.

Staying alert proved easy at first, but as the hours wore on, ever slower, Merlin frequently felt his concentration slipping. It had been a long couple of days and he was tired. On top of that, he was reminded constantly that his memories were disappearing. He would reflect back on places he had been and experiences he had had and realise grimly that there were distinct dark areas where nothing seemed to surface. They were just blank spaces that he knew had not been blank before. He tried to stop thinking about the past, unwilling to discover any more memory gaps.

Up ahead, Arthur too seemed to be tiring. His decisions on routes were becoming more stilted and hesitant; there was more uncertainty when he did choose a direction. Merlin was sure that they were doubling back on themselves, but it was impossible to tell really. Unless they crossed their own arrows, which they hadn't yet, all they could really tell was that they were somewhere they hadn't been before.

Eventually, and much to Merlin's relief, Arthur suggested that they stop and rest for a bit. Merlin slid down the rock wall gratefully and sat on the floor, wishing that it was a bit more comfortable. They took several sips of water and ate a few strips of dried meat and what was left of the bread from breakfast.

'We'll have to turn back soon,' Merlin pointed out, nodding towards the sky. It was beginning to darken the tinniest amount.

'We'll be alright for a little longer. I don't want to turn back before we have to.'

Merlin nodded and took another sip, debating how he could broach the next question; it was one that had been going round his mind for awhile.

'Arthur…?'

'Merlin?' Arthur replied, a knowing tone in his voice.

'Have you decided what you're going to do if we manage to catch Morgana?'

'No, I haven't decided,' he answered heavily. 'It's likely that this will be our only chance of ever catching her if she's as weak as you say she is.'

'I don't think we'll have another chance once she regains her strength,' Merlin said quietly.

'She could be taken back to Camelot, made to answer for her crimes, executed for high treason, but…' he tailed off.

'But she's your sister,' Merlin finished for him. Arthur nodded heavily and took another sip from his water skin, staring resolutely at other side of the passage they were in.

'Yes,' he eventually added. 'She's my sister. The only family I have left.' He laughed slightly, but it was sad. 'Do you know what the funny thing is?' he asked. Merlin just waited for him to explain. 'After everything she's done, and even knowing how much she hates me, I still love her. I still remember what she was like growing up; how kind and compassionate she was. Those memories don't seem to be going anywhere.'

'She isn't that person anymore,' Merlin replied carefully. 'You know that Arthur.'

'I do, but that doesn't make it any easier to consider having her executed. She's the only blood family I have left.'

'You have other family and friends,' Merlin assured him with a smile as Arthur looked across at him for some sort of answer. Arthur nodded and then stood up.

'I will make the decision when it is needed.'

As it turned out, the decision was needed much more quickly than either of them had anticipated. They had only been walking a few more minutes when Merlin spotted a deep alcove in the rock face which curved out of sight. Cautiously he walked in, Arthur just behind him. They followed the curve round and found themselves greeted by daylight as the tunnel opened up again -its walls climbing up to the top of the Pass- and the sight that it revealed was a strange one. It was hard to reconcile the woman before them with the evil witch that had tried to kill them on numerous occasions. The pale and clearly exhausted woman, lying asleep on a straw mattress, surrounded by several meagre possessions was much more akin to the Morgana that had been their friend all those years ago. Arthur too seemed taken aback by the sight, for the tinniest gasp escaped his lips.

It was enough. In an instant her eyes shot open and the illusion was shattered. She scrambled to her feet, her lips curling into a snarl and her eyes dark with hatred.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I couldn't log into my fanfiction account for some reason, but it seems to be alright now. And advanced apologies to Bottled Sunshine for another chapter devoid of little Merlin and Arthur. Chapter thirteen, however, will be entirely about them. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter and please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

Arthur had only been this close to Morgana a few times in the last few years and most of those times he had been too preoccupied by his imminent death to really pay much attention to her. Now though, he was painfully aware that there was nothing to distract him from her pale skin, from the way she held herself: proud and upright, just as she had done in the past, although no longer for the same reasons. He saw the way her hair twisted and curled down her shoulders and remembered when they had fought and argued and her hair had snapped round as she stormed away from him, or stormed towards him.

There had been so many times when he had mourned for the sister that he had known and yet never known. How had his father done it? How had he managed to go on pretending that she wasn't his own child? Why couldn't he have just told her from the start? He could have let her and Arthur grow up as the brother and sister that they really were, in full knowledge of that fact. Why couldn't he have just claimed her? Arthur knew that Morgana's descent into this shadow of her former self was due, in a large part, to the fact that she hadn't been claimed as the daughter she really was, even if she had always been treated as such. How Arthur wished it was different. He had meant what he said to Merlin earlier: he loved Morgana, even after everything. She was his sister and he was her brother and all he wanted to do was protect her from herself and take her back to the place she belonged as the person she had once been.

The illusion shattered as the next words hissed from her lips, no trace of her past gentleness or compassion in them.

'I will kill you where you stand.'

'No, Morgana,' Arthur said quietly. She took several soft steps to where her sword lent against the rock wall. She picked it up casually, slowly. There was no fear in her movements, no uncertainty. It made Arthur nervous; was she really as powerless as Merlin believed? But then why would she go for her sword if she had her magic? He glanced at Merlin, but he didn't seem worried; his eyes were scanning the room, evidently searching for the pendant. Arthur had almost forgotten about it. He decided to leave Merlin to the jewellery search and focus instead on making sure that Morgana didn't impale either of them while their magical wards were down.

'What's the matter little brother?' she asked, a smirk on her face as she lifted her weapon.

'Morgana, you don't have your magic and I was always a better sword fighter than you.'

She took several more slow and measured steps, pacing back and forth in front of them. He felt Merlin at his side, his focus back on Morgana again and Arthur realised what he had seen. As Morgana turned sideways to continue in her repetitive path, the smallest glint of gold was visible at the back of her neck, before the chain of the pendant disappeared underneath the material of her dress.

'Still as arrogant as ever I see,' she murmured. She had made no move to raise her sword into a defensive, or indeed an attack position and so Arthur kept his low as well. Something was unnerving him about her attitude, about how calm she was. There was no flicker of panic in her eyes and Arthur had always been able to see that in Morgana, even after she had turned away from them.

'Why are you here?' she asked. 'To arrest me? Be my guest; by the time we get back to Camelot my powers will have returned.'

'Are you sure about that, Morgana?' Merlin asked. 'Your traps are down throughout the whole of the Pass and you had no idea that we were here. Your magic isn't coming back anytime soon.'

'So you _are_ here to me arrest me then?' she repeated, a smirk on her face.

Arthur didn't know how to answer. Morgana's power had always meant that arresting her was never an option. He had spoken to Merlin about it at length in the last year and a half, but the sorcerer had been doubtful as to whether he could hold her for any length of time, not with all the other magical duties that he now had to perform throughout Camelot. Merlin hadn't voiced it, but Arthur had known what his friend was thinking: if they were ever to bring Morgana to Camelot, Merlin could hold her for long enough to organise an execution, but past that they risked unleashing her on the Kingdom.

They had only spoken about it a few times because the end revelation was always the same: if they wanted to remove Morgana as a threat then she would have to be executed and it was something that Arthur just couldn't conceive doing. He couldn't ignore that she was his sister for long enough to make the kingly decision that he knew was necessary.

And Morgana knew it.

She smiled as she again received no response.

'No, I thought not, which only leaves me to wonder why you and your little friend would come all this way to see me.'

And suddenly Arthur realised the very stupid flaw in their plan. Morgana didn't know what had happened that night in the clearing; she didn't know that the young versions of himself and Merlin had stayed in this time, but if they weren't careful then she would realise it.

They needed her to believe that they _were _here to arrest her.

'Put down your weapon, Morgana. You are hereby under arrest for high treason. You will be taken to Camelot to await your execution.'

'Fighting talk at last,' she replied, but there was a flicker of hesitancy in her words; she hadn't been expecting that. 'But surely you must know that I won't come with you,' she continued, the sneer was back in her voice.

'You don't have a choice, Morgana,' Merlin said. Whether he had realised their mistake, Arthur didn't know, but Merlin went along with the ruse. His tone had become flatter, more resigned. Arthur knew that tone well in his friend; he knew how much Merlin hated anything that was violent or aggressive. He had seen the desperate regret in Merlin's eyes whenever he had to bring harm to another person or creature; it went against his nature entirely. 'I can make you come with us.'

'I still have magic, Emrys.' Her words were strong, but she was backing away from them. There was nowhere for her to go, however. He and Merlin were blocking her only escape route and the walls of the alcove, although they opened out to the sky, were too high for her to climb.

'But not enough,' Merlin replied.

'I don't need much,' she said. Her face broke into a knowing smile and in that instant Arthur realised that somehow, although he didn't know how, they had walked into a trap. He took a step forward, wanting to stop whatever she was planning, but it was exactly what she wanted him to do. Quicker than Arthur could follow she raised her hand to the sky and screamed some unfamiliar words. He took another step.

'No, Arthur!' he heard Merlin shout.

Several large cracking sounds echoed above them and instinctively Arthur looked up. Their mistake was evident instantly. Thirty feet above them a ledge, loaded down with debris from higher up the walls of the pass, jutted out into the funnel of the alcove. A ledge that Morgana had, with the smallest infliction of magic, caused to crumble enough to collapse under the weight of the rocks and boulders that had accumulated there over the decades and had been slowly bearing down on the small outcrop of rock that had kept them safely in place.

Arthur realised all this in less than a second, but it still wasn't quick enough. The rocks were plummeting towards him and in an odd moment of calm clarity he realised that anything he did would not clear him from their path. No movement in any direction would shield him from them; he was perfectly placed to be crushed, as Morgana had known. He felt sad somehow as they got closer; she really had killed him in the end, and she didn't care.

He closed his eyes, not even bothering to use his arms as a shield; they wouldn't work, but then suddenly he heard Merlin's voice and felt something connect hard round his middle, flooring him instantly and painfully. The ground and air seemed to shudder for several seconds, shaking more strongly in quick, successive bouts and then everything stopped. There was no movement, no agonised crushing of his limbs. Had his death happened that quickly that he hadn't even felt it?

He opened his eyes from where he lay on his back and gave a small yell as he saw a rock half a metre from his face. He instinctively tried to raise his hand, only to find that it smashed hard into another rock above his stomach.

'Will you stop moving,' came a strained voice from beside him. 'It's hard enough to keep everything in place as it is.'

Arthur turned his head to see Merlin lying next to him also on his back, but his hands were held out in front of him, angled towards the sky, or what would be the sky if they could see it, as if he was balancing some invisible serving tray on both hands.

'What…?' he began, but he suddenly became aware the only reason that he could see Merlin was because there was one of the Sorcerer's strange flameless lights floating by their heads; apart from that there was nothing but rock all around them. Arthur couldn't see anything else; it was like they had been encased in a stone tomb. The hard walls of their prison were varying distances from their skin, sometimes as little as a few centimetres away, but there was no sign of any escape.

'Merlin, where are we?' Arthur asked, keeping the panic out of his voice, because he couldn't deny that he was panicking slightly.

'Exactly where we were a moment ago, but now we have rocks as a tent,' he muttered. The strain in his voice was obvious.

'What happened?'

'Morgana broke the ledge. I should have realised she could do that,' Merlin berated himself.

'So should I,' Arthur argued. Now was not the time for Merlin to start guilting himself over not protecting Arthur completely. He was quite sure that he'd be a bloodied pile of bones and skin right now if Merlin hadn't tackled him to the floor.

'I just reacted,' Merlin carried on. 'Knocked you over,' he sounded a little proud at that, 'and then kept the rocks up with magic.'

'So why are we still surrounded by them?' Arthur asked. 'Just put them down.'

'We're underneath them,' Merlin replied, as if Arthur was completely stupid.

'I know that you idiot. I mean move them to the side.'

'Well I'm working on that, but if I move one, I have to try and compensate for the way the others will move and I don't want them to crash through my shield.' He shifted slightly where he lay and closed his eyes. 'Give me a few minutes.'

Arthur did so, deciding that he also wasn't keen on the rocks getting through Merlin's shield and smashing the two of them into a pulp. But the moment of silence gave him an unwanted chance to reflect. Morgana would be long gone by now. She would have pushed herself back against the wall of the alcove and then walked straight over the top of the rock fall. Arthur was in no doubt that she knew these passages as if she had a map imprinted in her head. They'd never find her again. Desolation crashed down on him. Getting the pendant had been their last chance, their last hope. Arthur could almost imagine his memories floating out of his head, and disintegrating into nothing, like mist which was burnt away by the sun on a cold morning.

What could they do now? Perhaps Kilgharrah could help them track her down, but by the time Merlin called him, she could have gone somewhere completely different. Arthur tried not to sink down into the desolation that was slowly beginning to surround him, but it was hard to fight it when failure to put the past right now seemed like an inevitability.

Around him he became aware of chinks of light appearing as rocks and debris were cleared away by Merlin's intense focus. Soon they were both lying down with boulders scattered around them and the sun once again shinning on their faces. Slowly Arthur sat up, looking around. Morgana was, as predicted, long gone. What few possessions had been against the wall of the alcove were no longer there; all that remained was the old mattress. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

'Are you alright?' Merlin asked. He had climbed to his feet and offered Arthur hand. 'The rocks didn't catch you did they?'

'No,' he replied, talking the offered hand and allowing Merlin to pull him up. 'Thank you, Merlin.'

'You're welcome.'

Arthur looked round the alcove again as if hoping that somehow he had missed Morgana and that she was standing there, waiting to give them the pendant and beg Arthur's forgiveness, but nothing had changed. Except, that was, for the expression on Merlin's face, which had been one of concern, but was now most definitely one of merriment. He was grinning that annoying grin that everyone else found so endearing.

'What could possible be making you smile, Merlin. She got away.'

He shrugged. 'We're no worse off than we were before. At least she hasn't got very powerful magic at the moment.'

'She nearly killed us with a rockslide.'

'I can deal with that,' Merlin argued. 'Believe me Arthur; we have a lot to be thankful for.'

'It never fails to amaze me that somebody as powerful as you can be so stupid,' Arthur growled, feeling his irritation rise as he stooped to pick up his sword which had fallen from his hand when Merlin pushed him to the ground. He was pleased to see that it hadn't been battered by the rocks. Perhaps Merlin had protected it as well. 'Morgana's gone and we still don't have…' he tailed off as he straightened up and faced Merlin again to see his friend picking something up off the ground where he had been lying and holding it up in the light.

The golden pendant hung from his hands, sparkling in the sun that was filtering down through the dust that was beginning to settle. The jewel was small, more like a diamond than anything else and was exactly as young Merlin had described it.

'How…?' Arthur began, but stopped when he saw the grin light up Merlin's face once more. He rolled his eyes. 'How could she drop that?'

'She didn't drop it. As I ran to push you over I snapped it from her neck with magic and called it over to myself. I don't think she even noticed in amongst all the commotion.' He finished with another grin and this time Arthur didn't begrudge him it. He smiled back and walked over to his friend, clapping on the back.

'Merlin…'

'I know: you don't know what you'd do without me,' he filled in. Arthur scowled.

'Actually I was going to say: you're not…'

'…as stupid as I look?' Merlin finished. 'Yeah, I know.'

Arthur fixed him with a glare. That was exactly what he had been going to say. They really had been around each other far too long.

'Home then?' Merlin asked.

'Home,' Arthur agreed. 'You've got a lot of work to do my friend.' They headed back out of the alcove and began following the arrows back to the entrance of the Pass.

'Trust me, now that we have this it'll be a hundred times easier,' Merlin assured him.

'Good because-' but he never finished his sentence. At that moment a small figure careened around the corner ahead of them and hit Arthur with enough force to make the King stumble backwards. He regained his senses quickly and reached out to steady the small person that had knocked into him. His eyes widened and he couldn't find words to express his surprise at what he saw. In front of him, terror etched into every feature of his face, was Prince Arthur; he was pale and shaking, with tears running down his face.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for the reviews. Hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

_Several hours earlier._

Merlin felt absolutely exhausted. Just the effort of lifting his foot and putting it back down again in a stumbling walk felt like it was draining all his strength. He knew that Prince Arthur was just as tired as he was, but the boy stubbornly continued on, making sure that he always stayed several steps ahead of Merlin.

It had been a long day, and if Arthur continued in his stubborn-headed pursuit of the King then it would turn out to be even longer. Merlin longed to call out to him to tell him that they should stop, but he knew his suggestion would just be met with mocking words and a sneer and he was fed up of seeing it on the Prince's face and hearing it in his voice.

After leaving Camelot the previous night, they had ridden for several hours in the moonlight. Although that provided some illumination, it was of little use when they were in the forest and Merlin had gripped Arthur's waist tightly, closed his eyes and just prayed that the horse would not trip and fall. The creature, though, seemed to be a strong and intelligent breed because every step he took was a sure one and Merlin soon realised that they were in no danger whatsoever of being thrown off.

Merlin had assumed that Arthur would suggest they stop and get some rest as the dawn light began to creep into the sky, but instead he seemed to push them on even more quickly, stopping only briefly to feed and water the horse. Within minutes they were riding once again. When they finally broke through the forest and got a glimpse of the mountains, they dismounted and stopped, only realising then that neither of them had brought any food for the journey. At that moment, Merlin's stomach had begun to grumble and he had thought back longingly to the masses of food at the castle. At least he had had a big meal the night before.

With no food, they had to content themselves with water from a nearby stream which was refreshing and helpful, but by no means made up for their lack of nourishment. And so it was miserably that they walked along the forest edge, looking for the best place to leave the horse as they carried on. Merlin could see why his older self hadn't wanted to take Halesha: the terrain looked near enough impassable for them, let alone a horse. They soon came across several of the castle's horses tethered by the tree line and so left their horse there as well.

'Have we got to go right into the mountains?' Merlin asked as they finished tying the horse.

'Why, are you scared?' Arthur asked. 'You can just stay and watch the horses. You'll only slow me down anyway.'

'No, I'll come with you.'

Arthur looked less than impressed, but didn't forbid him –or attempt to forbid him; Merlin wouldn't have listened anyway- to come as well.

'Look, you can see their tracks,' Arthur muttered pointing to the ground. Sure enough, several boot prints marked the ground where there was still a bit of soil. 'And you said Merlin would cover them.'

'Well I suppose he did until they found him and then there was no point.'

Arthur just huffed in response and then began following the tracks that were scattered on the ground before them.

'Don't you think we should stop and rest?' Merlin suggested hesitantly. 'We probably need to be wide awake if we're walking through mountains.'

'If we stop then we'll never catch up with them. Don't you know anything about tracking? We've probably caught up with them quite a bit over night.'

Merlin kept his doubts to himself. They had left a good twelve hours after Arthur had, even without stopping, they were probably still five or six hours behind and in their current states, Merlin doubted they would be able to make up any ground. Still, Arthur seemed happy at the moment, or at least what passed for happy for the Prince, and so Merlin wasn't going to complain. He had to admit that it was quite nice to be away from the castle. It was so different from anything he had ever known and he felt completely out of place there. His older self didn't; he seemed to fit just right with the rest of the palace and with the King and Queen, but Merlin wasn't at that point yet and it was much nicer to be out in the open air then cooped up inside the stone walls of Camelot's castle. He did, however, feel guilty about leaving without saying anything to Guinevere. No doubt she would discover their disappearance in the next few hours if she hadn't already and Merlin dreaded to think how worried she would be. She genuinely seemed to like both of then, even Prince Arthur, although maybe that was because he would one day be her husband. Thinking about things like that made Merlin feel a little weird and so he pushed the thought from his mind. He just hoped that the Queen wouldn't be too disappointed with them.

They made steady progress for the rest of that morning, coming across the camp that the knights, Merlin and Arthur must have made last night when they stopped. Assuming that the group started out at dawn, that still put them seven hours ahead and the Prince had been frustrated by that revelation. He had renewed his efforts to catch up, which had left Merlin straggling behind and the Prince showing little concern at the fact that his companion was getting further and further behind.

As the sun rose to its highest point, they found themselves climbing up the mountain at a much steeper incline than they had done the rest of the morning. Merlin had stumbled several times as it was and his hands and knees were raw from trying to catch himself. He knew that he and Arthur had some sort of magical protection on themselves that was meant to be on their older selves, but evidently that only worked against magical attacks or deliberate attacks. Clumsiness, apparently, wasn't covered. Merlin wanted very much to ask the Prince his thoughts on the matter but two things stopped him. The first was the fact that Arthur had shown no sympathy whatsoever when Merlin had fallen, in fact he had seemed quite smug when he turned and saw the boy sprawled on the ground. The second was that Merlin wasn't sure the Prince knew about the protection. Old-Merlin had told him, but he was quite confident that the sorcerer wouldn't have shared the news with the magic-hating Prince. Either way, Merlin kept his mouth shut and resisted the urge to strike up a conversation with the other boy.

It was a few hours later that they found themselves at what could only be described as a ridge that led round the mountain. They couldn't see very much of it –it curled away around the mountain- but Merlin had the horrible impression that it got very very thin in places. He asked Arthur again about stopping and resting, not wanting either of them to make a mistake because of how exhausted they were, but Arthur carried on and Merlin felt obligated to follow him. This was what he was supposed to do wasn't it? Protect Arthur? That's what his older-self had said. Merlin just hadn't realised what a proud idiot the boy was. Had his counterpart had it this tough?

The journey was difficult. Even Arthur seemed unsure of himself at certain points. His face, which was normally set in a grim mask of determination, took on a look of uncertainty and –although Arthur would never agree- fear; their feet had just enough rock below them to stop them falling to their deaths. He had no idea how the adults had managed it. He wondered if the knights and Merlin had felt as worried as he did as they watched King Arthur navigate the difficult path. Maybe the King had been just as determined as his younger self; not worrying about the others too much, just pushing on.

It was when they had been travelling along the path for an hour or so that Merlin had the first fleeting sense of hope that the Prince would one day turn into the King Arthur that Merlin liked so much. Merlin was a step or two behind Arthur, traversing another narrow section when a sudden and irresistible bout of dizziness overcame him. He didn't know whether it was the lack of food or sleep, but whichever it was he suddenly felt his hands come away from the wall as his body pitched forwards. Panic seized him, but in his dizziness he could not work out how to make his way back to the rock face and grab a hand hold again.

For one terrible moment, all that had filled his vision was the sight of the mountain plummeting away beneath him; the sheer drop stretching down and down into sharp and unforgiving rocks that would surely kill him instantly. He had fallen forward past the point where he could regain his equilibrium when suddenly an arm was across his chest pushing him back to the rock face and staying their for several seconds.

'What are you doing?' Arthur asked, and the edge of panic in his voice shocked Merlin enough to bring his world back into focus and re-establish his sense of balance.

'You…?' he started in astonishment. Arthur had just saved his life? Not only that, he had been genuinely worried that he would fall. Merlin stared open mouthed at the prince as he latched his hands back onto the rocks. He saw several emotions pass across his face. The first was anger, driven by –Merlin realised- a sense of panic at the thought of the fall. Next came shock at the realisation of what he had just done. Then was a distinct look of self-reproach at the fact that he'd done it. And finally anger once again reasserted itself on his face, both at Merlin and at himself.

'You really are a stupid idiot!' he yelled. 'Can't you even walk along a path without falling over?'

'It's not really a path,' Merlin replied, getting over the shock and feeling a small spike of indignation at the unjust comment. Arthur didn't look at him, just carried on, this time staying several paces ahead of Merlin, probably making sure that if Merlin stumbled again he wouldn't be able to reach him.

'Arthur,' Merlin called.

'It's Prince Arthur, and stop talking to me.'

'No, Arthur,' Merlin tried again, his voice calm and quiet. The tone caused the Prince to turn slightly. 'Thank you. You saved my life.' Merlin smiled.

He realised, as he saw the expression on Arthur's face, that he shouldn't have said anything.

'Next time I'll let you fall,' he growled before carrying on.

Nothing else was said during the journey to the Pass. If the silence was uncomfortable before, it was now unbearable. It was oppressive and cutting and Merlin longed to break it, but he knew that anything he said would just make things worse. And so they continued, eventually reaching the entrance as the sun was kissing the horizon.

* * *

><p>Arthur was so angry with himself, so angry. When they finally arrived at the Pass of the Old Kingdom, he walked straight through the entrance, not waiting for Merlin to even get down off the ledge. Perhaps he could loose the stupid boy in the maze of tunnels. But apparently not. In a few seconds Merlin had caught up to him, evidently having run down the incline and into the passage.<p>

What had made him put his arm out and stop Merlin from falling to his death? A little voice in his head whispered that he had done it to save a six year old boy's life, but he shook it off. Merlin wasn't just a boy. He was a sorcerer who would grow up and enchant Arthur to do exactly what he wanted. Sorcerers were evil, magic was evil, Merlin was evil and he had saved him. He was furious with himself. If his father had seen him…he shuddered. How disappointed his father would be in him. He felt his face grow hot even at the thought of what the man would say; he could just hear the angry, disbelieving words that would pour from his father's lips if he ever found out.

They half walked, half ran in stony silence through the maze of tunnels. Minutes passed quickly and without distinction and still Arthur's mind could not rest. Thoughts tangled themselves around one another and twisted into hidden recesses until his mind felt as much like a maze as the Pass did.

He turned down another passage, paying no attention to where he was going. Behind him, Merlin said something about getting lost and making marks, but Arthur just ignored him. With any luck he would loose Merlin in the passageways and then that would be his problem solved. Why had he brought the boy with him? He wouldn't really have told Guinevere, not if Arthur threatened him to keep quiet. He entertained that idea for a moment and then tossed it aside; Merlin wouldn't care if Arthur threatened him; if he was scared of the Prince at all then he wouldn't be here. Arthur had certainly gone out of his way to make it clear to the boy that he didn't want him around. And yet Merlin had stuck with him, keeping up even when Arthur purposely went faster knowing how exhausted the boy was.

Why was he doing it? Was Merlin already starting his plot to enchant Arthur? Was that why he had insisted on coming along? To begin the magical attack that would one day turn him into the most stupid, blind king that Camelot had ever seen. That must be it, Arthur reasoned. Merlin was enchanting him. But even as the idea crossed his mind he felt doubt flare up. If Merlin was enchanting him, wouldn't he make Arthur slow down or be nicer? The boy must have been fed up with how Arthur had been treating him by now. Could he be enchanting him? He glanced back and saw the boy stumbling after him, tired and fed up, yet determined to stick with Arthur. Didn't that make Merlin a nice person?

Turning a corner with more force than was necessary, Arthur chided himself at the leniency that he was beginning to give Merlin. That could not happen. Merlin was not someone he could trust; he was a magic user and therefore had to be treated with the utmost contempt. He was not fit to be alive.

_But you saved him_ the voice whispered again. Arthur cursed, trying to silence it, but it just grew louder in his mind. It had just been instinct, he argued with himself. He had seen someone falling and he hadn't thought about who they were. He was a Prince of Camelot; he was meant to save people and that instinct had just taken over for a few seconds. But as much as he tried to convince himself, he knew that he had seen Merlin falling. _Merlin,_ not some nameless citizen of Camelot. He had seen Merlin loose his balance and he had genuinely felt a spike of fear at the thought that the boy would fall to his death. He didn't know why he had felt that way, but he had and he couldn't deny it.

He clenched his fists at his side and took a deep breath. If only he'd let the boy fall. Then old-Merlin would have gone as well. The sorcerer would never have met Arthur when they were both older and then none of this would have happened. It would have solved all his problems. And instead he had put his arm out and saved the life of a magic-user.

Tears stung his eyes and he blinked furiously. He wouldn't cry over a sorcerer. He wouldn't cry about the fact that he was in a strange place with people who didn't like him. He wouldn't cry about the fact that he was most definitely lost in an ancient and highly dangerous Pass with not one but three sorcerers on the lose. He wouldn't cry because his older self preferred a six year old sorcerer to him. He wouldn't cry over the knowledge that one day Morgana would hate him and try and kill him. No he wouldn't cry over those things. But the tears still fell; because he would cry over the knowledge that he had knowingly and willingly saved a sorcerer and that his father would be disappointed in him.

'Arthur.' The voice bounced off the walls. 'Arthur!' it came again, louder this time. 'Arthur!' And suddenly Merlin was standing in front of him, a frown on his face -which was paler than any face that Arthur had ever seen. His eyes were beginning to look sunken and there were deep shadows under them. 'We're lost,' he said firmly. 'We have to try and find our way back. We haven't eaten anything and we haven't slept. We're too tired for this.'

'You might be,' Arthur told him, shoving past him and knocking him into the wall with some force. Again he came back. 'What do you want?' Arthur shouted, walking past him again. Why couldn't the boy leave him alone? Why did he have to be here? Why did he have to be so determined to help? Once again Merlin blocked Arthur's path and this time the Prince felt something snap inside of him. With a yell, he threw himself at the boy, tackling him to the ground as if he was no heavier than a bag of wool. 'What do you want?' he repeated as he pinned the helpless boy to the floor. He seemed a bit dazed by the fall and didn't answer and so Arthur shouted all the more loudly, but as he did, a terrible crashing sound struck through the air. Even the ground beneath them began to tremor and for one terrible moment Arthur thought his shouting had caused a rockslide.

He looked up fearfully, but there was nothing above them. Slowly he got off Merlin and backed away, looking around at the walls, his eyes wide. Merlin struggled to his feet, rubbing the back of his head; he look disorientated and seemed to stagger slightly.

'What was that?' he whispered. Once again Arthur wished the boy would shut up, but this time it was because Arthur didn't know the answer. Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Instead they remained very still, glancing back and forth. It was only when Arthur was satisfied that there really was no more danger that he began to make a move again.

'I think we should try and find the entrance,' Merlin said cautiously.

'You go back then.'

'No,' Merlin sighed; he sounded frustrated. 'We should stick together.'

'Why?' he asked forcefully. 'Why won't you just go?'

'Because I don't care what you think. I'm not evil, I don't want to hurt you and one day we will be friends. But you need to be alive for that.' He opened his hands wide, a pleading gesture. 'I want to make sure you're alright.'

'I don't need you for that,' he answered, turning away. 'I don't need anybody.' He turned back to give Merlin one last glare before making a run for it, but he was surprised to see a look of fear on the boy's face. It seemed a strange moment for the boy to finally grow a brain and realise that he should be scared of the Prince.

'Arthur,' he whispered. He pointed beyond where Arthur was standing. Arthur turned in confusion and felt his skin crawl at what he saw. A few metres behind him, looking just as shocked to see them, stood Morgana. In the clearing when they had first arrived, Arthur hadn't recognised her as an older version of Morgana, but now it seemed so obvious. She had the same eyes and hair. Even the way she held herself seemed familiar. Arthur backed up several steps until he was beside Merlin.

'Well, well,' came her voice. It was soft and gentle, but it sent a shiver through Arthur. There was evil behind it. 'If it isn't _Prince_ Arthur and his ever faithful friend.' She was getting closer to them and instinctively they backed up. 'Perhaps killing Arthur and Merlin will be easier than I thought.'

That was all it took for the two boys to run. But Arthur knew the moment he started that he would never be able to outrun her. He was exhausted; he had pushed himself too hard.

He hadn't gone far when he felt a vice like grip wrench his arm back and pull him to a stop. Beside him, Merlin shot forward, managing to slip to the right and away from Morgana as she reached for him. Arthur watched him go, contempt filling him. Finally Merlin's true colours emerged. Proof that he wasn't the innocent sorcerer everybody thought him to be. He who proclaimed he was protecting Arthur, running off and leaving him to die. Arthur had been right all along.

'Now, now my young Prince,' Morgana laughed as he struggled to get away. At the sound, Merlin stopped and turned back. His face fell and horror moulded his features as he saw Morgana holding Arthur. Without hesitation, he began walking back towards them.

At that moment, Arthur felt a terrible insecurity pass through him and it had nothing to do with the witch that held him. Merlin was walking back towards him. Fury filled Arthur. Why was he doing that? Why couldn't he just run away like the coward he was supposed to be, why couldn't he abandon Arthur as an evil magic-user should?

Who was this scrawny boy to turn up in his life and turn around everything that Arthur had ever known and believed? The very foundations upon which he had built his faith in his father and his understanding of the King he would one day be were being chipped away by a peasant boy. Why would he do that? How could he do that?

Merlin was running now, running back towards the witch that was trying to kill him and before Arthur knew what had happened, Merlin had thrown all his weight against Morgana, sending her staggering backwards while releasing her hold on Prince Arthur. She began to fall as she lost her footing, but not before her hand closed around Merlin's wrist, pulling him down beside her and then holding him there so that, despite his pitiful attempts at struggling, he could not get away.

Arthur stood there, free of Morgana's tight grip and yet bound inextricably by the doubt and disbelief and anger that clouded his mind. He looked at Merlin to see the boy looking at him; asking him for help, asking him to save his life again, but this time Arthur wouldn't do it. He would not allow one person to ruin the life he had built for himself. He would not allow a sorcerer to save his life and then live to remind Arthur every moment that he had let down his father and his kingdom and himself. He turned away and ran, turning down passage after passage, but the image of Merlin's face seemed to be permanently burned into his mind: the pleading; the hope; the expectation of help. Arthur tried to outrun it, tried to remember that magic was evil and sorcerers were evil and Merlin was evil, but he couldn't remember why those things were true. And when he forgot those things he was left with the knowledge that brought tears of shame and self-doubt to his eyes: he had run away from someone who needed his help. He had run away like a coward.

He shook his head. No! He furiously fought to erase the image in his mind. He would not be made to fell like this. He had left a sorcerer…a sorcerer! He had done nothing wrong. Nothing! How dare Merlin make him feel like that? And yet the tears still came and his anger boiled and his shame grew and he shook with fury.

He didn't even see King Arthur as he rounded the next corner and ran straight into him.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for the reviews! Hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

It took Arthur several seconds to work out how to speak again after his younger self crashed into him. The shock of seeing the boy there and in such a state had taken him so much by surprise that for a moment all he could do was try and remember whether he'd taken the boy along with him in the first place. When he regained his senses enough to realise how absurd the idea was, his powers of speech seemed to reassert themselves.

'What the hell are you doing here?' he all but shouted, resisting the urge to shake the answer out of the boy. It wasn't the most eloquent way of getting his point across and it didn't seem to help the young Prince who jumped at the sound and then attempted to back away, before changing his mind and instead twisting against Arthur's grip in a panic, trying to see what was behind him. Or check he wasn't being followed, Arthur reasoned.

He looked at Merlin who seemed equally perplexed by the boy's presence, but who had also seen his glance back down the passage. Gently, Arthur pushed the Prince towards Merlin.

'Stay with Merlin,' he ordered in a quiet voice. The boy looked terrified at the prospect, but was so overwhelmed by whatever was going on that he allowed himself to be steered towards the sorcerer.

Quietly, Arthur unsheathed his sword and held it out in front of him, before pressing himself against the wall of the tunnel and making his way to the turn that was a few metres away. Cautiously he peered around the edge, but the passage, which ran in all but a straight line for a long distance, was devoid of any living creature, human or otherwise. He scoured the walls on each side to see if there were any alcoves or outcrops which could conceal an attacker, but there were none.

He glanced back at Prince Arthur. Aside from the fact that he was no longer breathing quite so heavily, there was no change in his countenance; the same fear and agitation still resonated from his small frame. What most concerned Arthur, however, were the tears that were running down the boy's face. Arthur could count the times he had cried as a child on one hand. In fact he had cried more in the last six or seven years than he had done in the whole of his life before that; something which he attributed entirely to Merlin's sensitive influence on him. But even before then, any tears had been to do with injuries, the fact that it just hurt. Looking at the boy, though, he didn't seem to be suffering from any physical pain.

Arthur strode back over to him.

'Are you hurt?' he asked. The boy shook his head and gratefully moved away from Merlin, but to Arthur's surprise he then backed away from both of them. Slowly, like someone approaching a wild animal, Arthur crept forward while Merlin moved away; his presence had always set the boy on edge – an interesting turnaround really; normally children loved Merlin but kept a healthy distance from Arthur.

Eventually he came to a stand still in front of Prince Arthur and then knelt down so that they were at eye level.

'How did you get here?'

'I followed you,' he whispered; all the bravado that had marked his tone over the last few days was gone. He sounded more like the child that Arthur knew he had been: unsure, wanting to please, happy to be protected when he needed it.

'How?'

'I stole a horse last night and then followed your tracks.'

Arthur tried not to let on how he impressed he was by the boy's stealth and determination.

'And why are you frightened?' Arthur expected him to deny that he was frightened and start spouting his usual rubbish that he was a prince and therefore didn't get frightened by anything, but he didn't.

'Because I saw Morgana,' he replied, his voice catching as fresh tears rolled down his face. Arthur felt his heart sink at the news.

'Did she see you?' Merlin asked gently. The Prince refused to look at Merlin as he answered.

'Yes, but then I ran and got away.'

Merlin suddenly moved closer, crouching down beside Arthur. The Prince closed his eyes at the sudden move, almost like he was expecting a blow. Arthur frowned; Merlin had done nothing to hurt the boy, other than his pride, over the past few days and the Prince had never shown such expectation of attack as he did now. He normally treated Merlin with a cautious disdain, but he had never seemed this frightened of him. Merlin seemed to realise the effect he was having and shuffled back a little bit.

'Was Merlin with you?' he asked once he was a few paces back from the boy; his tone anxious now. The Prince closed his eyes more tightly.

'No,' he breathed out after a few seconds, before more tears trickled down his cheeks. 'He didn't see me go,' he added. The traumas of the day seemed to catch up with him at that moment and he staggered on his feet, sliding down the wall and remaining quite still. It was only then that Arthur realised how pale the boy looked. He didn't look like he'd slept or eaten since he left. Quickly Arthur found some food and water in his pack and offered them to the Prince. He snatched them up so quickly that Arthur was convinced his earlier guess had been correct.

Leaving the boy to it, he grabbed Merlin's arm and pulled him to one side. They conversed in low voices.

'What does this mean now? Does it matter if she knows about them?' Arthur asked urgently.

'I think she'll try and get them,' he replied. His hand was rubbing the back of his head and Arthur recognised the gesture in Merlin easily. It was one that he had seen hundreds of times when things looked bad. He really did wear his heart on his sleeve and sometimes Arthur wished he would be a bit more stoic; when Arthur saw Merlin panicking, it tended to make him panic. 'We need to keep them safe. They need guards on them at all times and I'm going to reinforce their wards even more.'

'What about getting them back to the past though? Will the pendant still work?'

'As soon as I've worked out what she did I'll be able to send them back, I just don't know how long it'll take and if Morgana regains her powers she'll just attack Camelot to try and get them.'

Arthur glanced around as he tried to work out the best way of fortifying Camelot against Morgana's rage. In the past, Merlin had always played a big hand, but they couldn't afford to let him get distracted. They couldn't afford to let either of the boys get captured either, he reasoned.

'What happens if she does get them?'

Merlin just shook his head. 'We can't let her.'

'But what happens?'

He looked at Arthur for several seconds.

'If she gets them, then we don't survive. I don't even know if Camelot will survive. If she kills Prince Arthur then there won't be anyone to take over the throne. The land will be at war.'

'And if she kills Merlin?'

'I saved your life a lot of times Arthur,' he said slowly. 'If I die…'

'Then so do I,' Arthur finished for him.

'Perhaps. Maybe history will just take me out and rewrite the rest of it so you're still here, but I don't know.' He looked at Arthur and gave a sad smile. 'Two sides of one coin,' he pointed out. Arthur felt the poignancy of the words like a strike to his heart. Merlin had first told Arthur about the dragon's metaphor fully expecting the King to laugh at it with derision, but in fact, the words had resonated so deeply inside him that he had been shocked that he had never come up with the analogy himself. For whatever reason, he and Merlin were bound together; Arthur knew it completely and utterly. He had a feeling that if either of their young selves died, neither he nor Merlin would live to realise it.

'We have to get Prince Arthur back to Camelot,' Merlin told him. 'And I need to start working on this pendant. She'll realise it's gone before too long and she'll attack as soon as she can.'

They turned back to the Prince to find that he had fallen asleep. Arthur hurriedly picked him up and then he and Merlin made their way back to the entrance of the Pass, running down the passageways like their lives depended on it.

* * *

><p>'Do you like keeping us in suspense?' were the first words that Arthur heard as he, Merlin and the Prince arrived at the entrance of the Pass of the Old Kingdom. He was glad to see that the knights had all made it to the Pass entrance unharmed. Evidently Morgana had not seen them. He could understand Gwaine's words though as he suddenly noticed how dark the sky was. He'd told everybody to be back here by dusk and in the end he'd been the one to turn up late. He gave Gwaine a reassuring smile, but the knight's face had twisted into a frown at the sight of the Prince. Sir Leon stepped forward looking equally confused.<p>

'Sire, how…?' he began, but Arthur just shook his head.

'I don't know. He says he followed us. And he ran into Morgana in the Pass.'

'Morgana knows about them?' Elyan asked.

'Well, she knows about Arthur,' Arthur replied.

'She'll have worked out that there's a young version of me in Camelot as well,' Merlin told him. 'Or she'll assume anyway.'

'We need to get Prince Arthur back to Camelot as fast as possible and then protect him and Merlin,' Arthur added. Arthur shifted the dead weight of his young self in his arms, trying to find a more comfortable position, but a moment later Percival detached himself from the group and strode over to Arthur, his hands outstretched towards the Prince.

'I'll take him.'

'Thank you Percival,' Arthur nodded, revelling in the way his arms seemed to rise of their own accord at the sudden loss of pressure.

'I'm not one to be cautious,' Gwaine murmured, his attention directed at the mountain ledge which had been their path here, 'but I don't think trying to get back down the mountain when it's this dark is a good idea. We might as well just throw ourselves down the slope. It'll save the waiting.'

Arthur felt like rolling his eyes at the flippancy in Gwaine's voice, but the man had a point. The sky was darkening from a dull grey to a black and they risked plunging to their deaths if they tried to make their way back along the ledge; it had been difficult enough in daylight.

'Perhaps we could set up camp here,' Leon suggested.

'Leave at first light,' Elyan added.

'No,' Arthur told them. 'We can't stay so close to Morgana. She will be after Arthur and we can't risk her taking him.'

'Sire, the ledge will be impossible to traverse in the dark.'

Arthur knew that was true. But he also knew that they could create their own source of light.

'Merlin,' he asked, turning to where his friend stood just behind him. He frowned to see the man swaying slightly on his feet. Arthur walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Are you alright?'

'I just…' He closed his eyes tightly and then shook his head.

'Merlin?'

'No, I'm fine. I just…I felt strange…tired somehow. I don't know.'

Arthur fixed him with a questioning stare. It was usual for Merlin to get more tired than the knights, he just didn't have the same stamina as them, despite Arthur dragging him around Albion for the last few years, but it was unusual for him to be so ineloquent with it. Merlin could come up with a witty remark or a sarcastic insult when he was at death's door, let alone when he was a little tired.

'Merlin?'

'I'm fine,' he replied, more firmly this time. He seemed to have come out of whatever momentary lapse had seized him. He looked at Arthur and nodded. 'What do you want me to do?'

'We need light,' Arthur told him. That was all it took. Merlin grinned and muttered a few words. Instantly the area around them glowed as if it was day time. There was no distinguishable source of light, instead it seemed to emerge from the air around them, but it would make travelling on the ledge as easy as was possible on that sort of terrain. He nodded his thanks to Merlin and then looked to his knights. They were ready as soon as he gave the order. He did so quickly and within minutes they were making their way back to Camelot.

* * *

><p>When Arthur woke up, he was somewhat confused at what was happening. It felt like he was being carried, but he was never carried. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he had been picked up by anyone, not like this. Not being carried like he was a stupid baby. The other thing that confused him was the light filtering through his eyelids. It seemed to be bright daylight and yet he didn't feel like he'd been asleep the whole night.<p>

Cautiously he opened his eyes and looked around, only to let out a yell as he noticed a plummeting abyss below him. He struggled to get away from the grip of whoever was carrying him, but it was like trying to escape from a vice.

'Hey, kid, calm down.'

Arthur looked around to see one of the knights –the one with long brown hair- looking at him with a pointed expression.

'Where am I?' he asked, but as he looked around and saw the knights, King Arthur and Merlin, he realised where he was. They were all staring at him and it made him feel very uncomfortable.

'You're in the Caleron mountains,' the King said. He was standing next to the first knight that had spoken and Merlin was in front of him, leading the party.

Merlin. Memories of what had happened in the pass suddenly filled Arthur and he remembered seeing Merlin's face as he was held by Morgana; the pleading in his eyes, the desperation. The expectation of help that was written across his features; help that Arthur had never given. A terrible, overwhelming sense of guilt filled him as he saw the concern with which the older Merlin now looked at him. If they knew what he'd done… If the knew that he'd lied, that he'd let Morgana take Merlin.

Panic gripped him. They would find out. They would know what he had done. What would happen then? He struggled again, trying to get pout of the big knight's arm. Carefully the man set him down.

'Do you remember what happened?' the King was asking him.

'Of course I do,' he snapped, pressing himself against the wall of the mountain and settling his feet more securely on the ledge. A silence descended on the group at his words and he wished he'd said it more gently, but it was too late now.

'Are you alright to walk?' the King asked.

'Yes.'

'Be careful then. Merlin's provided some light for us, but it's still treacherous.'

Arthur didn't reply, just nodded at what was said, avoiding looking at Merlin again. Instead he fixed his attention on the light around him, puzzled at what the King had meant, but it soon became clear. It was night; that much was clear to see. He could just make out the moon beyond the strange bubble of light that surrounded the group. How could he do that? How could he make light? He risked a glance at the man, but was shocked into terrible remembrance when he saw the sorcerer looking at him. Did he suspect? Had he used magic to read Arthur's mind. But far from condemning him and using magic to throw him from the cliff, the man instead smiled at him. Arthur hated him all the more for it. Why couldn't he just show his true colours? Why did he have to pretend to be so genuine and so kind and so caring? Because he wasn't; that much Arthur knew. Merlin wasn't a kind person; that was obvious.

_How is it obvious?_ A voice in his head asked. He brushed it away. Merlin had to be evil; he just had to be.

Arthur shook all thoughts from his mind as the group carried on in silence. The ledge wasn't at its thinnest here, but it was narrow enough that Arthur had an excuse to keep his eyes fixed firmly on the ground rather than on Merlin or the strange light that was undoubtedly keeping them from slipping to their deaths. He could sense that the others kept on looking at him, but he ignored them. They didn't know what had happened; they couldn't say anything.

He needed to make sure that no-one found out, even when they got back. If they realised what had happened to Merlin then they would hate Arthur; they would lock him up, even though he was only trying to keep them all safe from Merlin's evil influence. Yes, that was it. He was protecting them all. He blocked out the images of Merlin that rose to his mind; the boy refusing to be left behind at the stables; keeping pace with Arthur throughout their journey; running back towards Morgana and knocking her flying to allow Arthur a chance to escape.

No, Arthur chided himself, throwing a blackness over the revelations. He couldn't think about them; he couldn't let them fully take root in his mind and he didn't want to think about the reason why.

They continued like that for an hour or so more, with nothing breaking the monotony of their surroundings or the eerie silence that they travelled in. Arthur could see that the knights were beginning to get tired, but he felt refreshed after his few hours sleep and was able to keep pace with them easily. The knight that had been carrying him –Percival, he had found out- often nodded at him to check that he was alright and Arthur found himself liking the huge man who seemed to say very little, but pay attention to everything.

It was after one such instance of Percival checking up on him that Arthur noticed the light around them beginning to dull slightly. At first he thought that it was dawn once again and Merlin had decided to stop the spell, but he quickly threw that idea aside; they had only been travelling for a few hours. The subtle difference in the light seemed to have caught the attention of the others as well because they all stopped on the ledge –which at this point was very narrow- and glanced up the line. Arthur followed their gaze and felt panic grip him at what he saw.

Up ahead, Merlin, who was several metres in front of the King, had stopped and was swaying dangerously on the cliff edge. His back was against the rock wall, but his knees seemed to be struggling to hold his weight and he kept on pitching forward slightly before righting himself. And all the while the light around them was fading.

'Merlin?' the King called questioningly, but there was an unmistakable trace of fear in the man's voice. He edged his way along the cliff much more quickly than was safe in an attempt to reach Merlin, but they were still several paces apart. Arthur felt Percival's hand on his shoulder, pressing him back against the wall even as Arthur tried desperately to keep the two leaders of the group in view. The curve of the mountain meant that it was just about possible, but far from reassuring Arthur, the scene he viewed only disturbed him further.

The light was very dim now, like the world just as the last vestiges of a sunset are about to disappear behind the horizon, but he could still see everything with a strange clarity: the King trying to get to Merlin; Merlin swaying once again, much more dangerously now.

'Merlin!' the King called again and at the desperate sound of his voice, Merlin managed to shift his gaze and look at his friend. Arthur felt a cold hand twist around his heart as he saw the expression on the man's face, because he had seen it on a much younger face only hours ago. Here was Merlin, twenty years later, looking at the King and asking for help; asking the King to save his life. Arthur had refused to do so for young Merlin, he had walked away; but his older counterpart did no such thing.

The last thing Arthur saw as the light completely faded was the King throwing himself forward, a hand outstretched to grab his friend, and Merlin finally loosing his balance on the ledge and falling down towards the abyss.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews! It was lovely to read so many encouraging comments. Anyway, I think I've kept you waiting long enough. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

Arthur wasn't sure exactly what went through his mind as he all but leapt off the mountain after Merlin, but he knew as sure as hell that he wasn't going to watch his friend plummet to his death. He had seen the expression on Merlin's face. It had been one of absolute helplessness which he had only seen on a few rare and haunting occasions; it was nothing to do with –as Arthur had first assumed- Merlin's fatigue after the last few days. No, whatever was happening to Merlin was something that the sorcerer didn't understand, and which terrified him. It was the only thing that could explain the silent plea that he had made to Arthur with one simple look.

And Arthur, of course, would help. It was a well-known fact in Camelot, both inside the castle and out in the town, that Merlin would do anything for Arthur. No-one ever questioned that; most people hadn't even questioned it during Merlin's six months of exile. But there were less people who realised that Merlin's loyalty to Arthur ran both ways. No, Arthur wasn't going to stop making fun of Merlin in front of people; no, he wasn't going to listen to Merlin without at least some minor attempt at incredulity at the sorcerer's words, but when it came to the important things, the things that meant something, Arthur would do anything to keep Merlin from harm.

Which included, he realised, as he felt the air rush against his face and felt the ledge under his feet disappear, jumping off a mountain after him. The light disappeared at that instant, but Arthur had taken in enough of his surroundings to know exactly where Merlin was and exactly where the ledge was. He only hoped that would be enough.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur flung his hand forward and was relieved to find that he connected squarely with Merlin's ankle. He wrapped his fingers around it and closed his fist as much as he could. At the same time, he threw his right hand up and reached for the cliff edge. For one terrible second he thought that he'd missed it; that he'd misjudged the distance, but a moment later, his fingers connected hard with rock. He had a split second to brace himself for the pressure that would hit him when Merlin's full weight was being taken by his arms and chest. He closed his eyes.

When it did happen, he could not help but yell as the force wrenched his shoulder round, and his fingers began to loose ground, but he gritted his teeth and tried to stop Merlin's dead weight from swinging back and forth; the movement was loosening his grip. He was aware of the knights' voices above him, panic and fear in them.

'Sire!' came Sir Leon's voice from the back of the group. Somewhere else he heard a foot slip, before being banged back into place.

'Sire?' Gwaine this time. Arthur gritted his teeth and tried to suck in some air to reply, but the pressure across his chest made it hard.

'I'm holding onto the ledge,' he gasped, 'but I can't hold on much longer.' He heard some relieved sighs from out if the darkness.

'Have you got Merlin?' Gwaine asked hesitantly as he moved closer.

'Yes.' He was going to make some witty comment about Merlin putting on a few pounds or being heavier than he looked, but he really wasn't in a position to be wasting energy on a few quips that would no doubt be wasted on his currently anxious knights.

'Percival,' Gwaine called, 'can you get past the Prince?'

'I think so.' There were some muffled sounds of feet on rock and a some protestations from said Prince, but a few seconds later Arthur heard Percival ask what he needed to do from just above Arthur's head.

What followed was Gwaine and Percival's much too long discussion about the best way to lift Arthur and Merlin back up, without falling themselves.

'I don't mean to hurry you,' Arthur hissed, 'but Merlin isn't getting any lighter and my fingers aren't getting any stronger.'

Hurriedly, Gwaine and Percival arranged themselves against the rock face. Arthur was left to imagine what they were doing; even with the light of the moon, all he could make out were faint silhouettes that moulded almost entirely with the black rock face. He guessed from their discussion that Percival had found a hand hold on the mountain and was bracing Gwaine, who suddenly appeared leaning over the edge of the cliff, like some strange dark monster in the night air. Arthur guessed that he was kneeling on the ledge, although he couldn't be sure. As far as he could remember, the outcrop they had been on had not been more than a boot length; Arthur wasn't sure that Gwaine could kneel in such a small space.

Hanging from the ledge, Arthur could feel a numbness entering his fingers on both hands. He was loosing his grip, but hurrying them would only cause them to make mistakes. Even so, he couldn't help the desperate gasps that were escaping his lips as he tried to hold his own weight and Merlin's. Just when he thought he would have to order them to be quicker, he felt Gwaine's hand close around his wrist and pull enough that some of the pressure left Arthur's arms, not much, but enough to help him draw breath more effectively and re-anchor himself on the ledge.

'You're not going to be able to pull both of us up, Gwaine,' Arthur told him, assuming that was their plan.

'Well I'm open to suggestions, Sire,' he drawled back, the strain of his exertions evident in his voice as well. 'I'm just trying to stop you both from falling to you respective deaths.'

'You need to wake Merlin up,' Elyan called from behind them. 'It's the only way.'

'I don't know what's wrong with him,' Arthur replied, closing his eyes tightly against the pain that was beginning to consume the muscles in his arms.

'We can't do this without him,' Leon agreed. Arthur didn't argue. He called Merlin's name lightly. He was going to risk trying to shake the man awake, but wasn't sure he'd be able to hold on if he started swinging and so contented himself with calling him again and adding insults when Merlin showed no signs of responding. Above him, the knights joined in the attempt and Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes at the absurdity of the situation. Here they were in the middle of the night with two of them hanging off a ledge and calls of 'Merlin' circling around in the air.

'Merlin has always been able to sleep through anything,' Gwaine eventually said, his voice clipped as if he was speaking through gritted teeth. But Arthur heard a slight sigh from down below.

'Merlin?' he asked, unsure of whether the man was awake. It was obvious that he was the next moment when he gave a startled yell and began thrashing somewhat, causing Arthur's arm to wrench painfully and Gwaine's grip on him to falter somewhat. 'Merlin!' he yelled as loudly as he could. 'Stop fidgeting. No, no,' he continued as Merlin tried to pull his weight up and turn to see what was going on above him. 'Stop you idiot,' Arthur called, his tone more full of pain than authority. It did the trick however.

'Arthur what…?' Merlin began. He sounded like he was half asleep.

'What's happening?' Arthur finished for him. 'Well,' he began, knowing that he should really try and conserve his strength, but so much more irritated with Merlin now that he was conscious. '…you, in your wise way, decided to fall off the ledge, I caught you and now we can't get back up. So do something now before I drop you on purpose.'

'I don't-'

'Merlin!' Arthur attempted to yell, but it wasn't just his voice that echoed through the night; the knights too seemed unwilling to give Merlin time to ask another question. A moment later, light illuminated them again and it only served to prove to Arthur that the whole situation was utterly absurd.

'Not really helping, Merlin,' he continued. 'Now I can see how close we all are to plunging to our deaths.' It was true. Gwaine had his eyes closed; his whole body was shaking while his face was pale. Percival looked very similar, but his eyes had stayed resolutely open.

'Alright; hold on,' Merlin replied.

'I am!' It was the loudest he'd managed to speak the entire time and it spurred Merlin on no end. Within seconds, Merlin was muttering several strange words and Arthur felt the weight on his arms lessen and decrease as Merlin managed to levitate himself towards the ledge. Arthur didn't let go of his ankle until Merlin was safely on the cliff. Seconds later he felt his own body being raised up past Gwaine and then lowered gently until his feet once again felt the reassuring hardness of rock beneath them. Beside him, Percival helped Gwaine to stand and within a few seconds everyone was on safe ground-or safer at least. No-one said anything for several seconds and, looking along the line, Arthur could see everyone with their heads back against the rock and their eyes closed in silent relief. He did the same, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his arms and the racing of his heart.

Eventually he looked over to Merlin, who met his gaze hesitantly.

'Don't do that again,' he told him. He had meant to say it in his usual Merlin-reprimanding-tone, but it didn't come out like that. It was much gentler, much more like a plea than an order.

'Sorry, Sire,' came Merlin's humble reply. 'I don't know what happened.'

'I know,' Arthur nodded. 'Just…stay closer from now on.' He nodded and Arthur looked back down the line. The knights seemed to have recovered themselves enough to move on, but his young self seemed to be in shock. Percival gave him a nod to say he would look out for the Prince, which Arthur was grateful for. He turned back to tell Merlin to carry on, but his friend was looking down into the abyss below them; his face was pale, and he swallowed heavily before putting his head back against the wall once more. He looked at Arthur.

'Thank you,' he whispered. Arthur just nodded at him.

They moved on again; Arthur's focus never once slipping from Merlin's pale form.

* * *

><p>Arthur lay on the ground pretending to be asleep. All around him he could hear the deep breathing and snores of the knights. They had arranged themselves in a circle around him, which made him feel very claustrophobic, but they all seemed so worried that Morgana would come and capture him that he didn't bother arguing. He knew, of course, that Morgana wouldn't bother to come and find him -not when she had Merlin. He shook his head, refusing to think about it.<p>

With every step they took towards Camelot, he felt his fear increase; the fear that had stirred inside him at the thought of the others finding out what he'd done; finding out that he'd lied; finding out that he'd abandoned Merlin to a witch. He hadn't said a word the entire time, not even to complain when Percival insisted on carrying him again when he looked tired. Even the thought of opening his mouth made him feel sick; he worried that if he said anything, the terrible truth would come tumbling out of him and he couldn't let that happen. Somehow he would convince them that Merlin had gone off on his own, but he couldn't do that until he was back in Camelot. And so he had chosen to say nothing about it and think nothing of it. The rest of the group, evidently assuming the day's events had taken their toll on him, didn't question his silence.

But now it was too silent. Not even the sounds of their footsteps on the rock were there to distract him; he needed to find something else to occupy his mind. Sleep wasn't working; thinking of home only made him feel sad and everything about his current situation made feel angry or scared or both.

Off to his right, the sound of soft footfalls caught his attention and he focused on them, wanting the distraction. He guessed that it was Merlin, who had been sleeping outside the ring of knights, going to change shifts with King Arthur who had been stationed just outside their camp for the last couple of hours. Closing his eyes, Arthur listened hard, determined to hear what they were going to say, half wanting to check that they didn't suspect him.

'Here,' came Merlin's soft voice. Arthur guessed he was handing him a water skin. 'I'll take over for you.'

'I've got a bit longer yet. Get some more rest.'

'There's no point. I can't sleep.'

'Neither can I,' the King admitted gently.

Arthur assumed that was all they were going to say and was disappointed that his only means of distraction had been so short lived, but a few seconds later the King spoke again.

'What happened today, Merlin? Up on the ledge?' Silence. Arthur scowled at the sorcerer's lack of respect for his King; that he would actually dare to ignore a question. 'I saw you before you fell. Something wasn't right. You were scared.'

'I was about to fall off a cliff.'

'Stop stalling. You know what I mean. It wasn't tiredness that made you loose your balance. Something happened and it scared you.'

'I told you,' Merlin murmured, so quietly that from where Arthur lay he had to strain to hear, 'I don't know what happened.'

'You always say you don't know. What you mean is you have an idea, but you don't really want to share it.'

'Well this time I really don't know. It felt…' he sighed. 'It doesn't matter.'

'Whatever it was nearly killed you, Merlin. It matters. So tell me what you think.'

Another heavy sigh from the sorcerer, but this time he did as the King asked.

'It's hard to explain. It felt like I was…fading, or disappearing. Like dying I suppose, but with no real cause.'

The way that he said it sent a shudder through Arthur where he lay eavesdropping on the conversation. He could hear Merlin's fear; even as powerful as he was, the man felt afraid. Arthur thought he'd feel smug at that knowledge; smug that even a sorcerer got scared, but it didn't have that effect at all; it just reminded him of… He shook his head. No; he wasn't going to think about it.

The King seemed equally affected by the words; his tone was strained when he next spoke.

'Are you saying something's trying to kill you?'

'I don't know.'

'Merlin.'

'I really don't know, Arthur. All I know is that when I was on the cliff, I couldn't find the energy to control my actions and it felt like I wasn't really there anymore.'

'Could it be Morgana?' the King asked after a long pause. His tone had become more measured, like he only wanted to focus on solutions.

'No; she's not powerful enough and even if she was, I'd know it was her.'

'Then, the situation we're in?'

'Are you experiencing anything like that?' Merlin asked. There was a pause and, on hearing Merlin's next words, Arthur assumed that the King had shaken his head. 'So I don't think it can be. Maybe there's something wrong with young me.'

Arthur felt the familiar shadow of fear descend over him at the sorcerer's words. They would work it out, they would find out it was him. But their conversation took no such turn. They reasoned that the boy was safe and protected in Camelot and that Morgana couldn't have made any moves to attack him yet as she had only just found out about him. They thought about the possibility of him getting sick, but argued that there had been nothing of concern when they left Camelot and that Gaius would be there instantly to look after him. They talked about young Merlin for several minutes, but never once did they mention the idea that Arthur could have lied to them about coming alone when he followed them to the Pass.

The knowledge comforted Arthur, but also filled him with a terrible sense of unease. They didn't suspect him at all. Something in their heads couldn't possibly believe that Arthur would leave Merlin to Morgana's mercy. He shivered under his blanket.

'Once I've worked out how to send them back, then it'll stop. I'm sure it will,' Merlin was saying.

'And if it doesn't?'

'Well, at least I'll have lived long enough to send everyone back to the correct time.'

A long silence. Arthur suspected that the King hadn't found the joke very funny.

'If you think another…attack…seizure, whatever it is,' the King said, 'is affecting you, just let me know. There are no mountains to fall off on the way back to Camelot, but I'm sure you'd find a way of badly injuring yourself if you fell off this log.'

'Probably,' Merlin mumbled.

Neither one of them said anything else, but nor did they move from where they were. The distraction had not worked as Arthur hoped it would, but he did seem more tired now than he had felt before. He closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing.

* * *

><p>When he next opened his eyes, Arthur found the world illuminated in the grey light of pre-dawn. It was a damp morning and he felt stiff from sleeping on the ground for so many hours. It was evident what had woken him; all around the knights were packing up the camp to begin the journey back to the where the horses were and then finally on to Camelot. He saw the King stroll over to him and tensed, but all the man did was crouch down and lay a hand on his shoulder.<p>

'Come on,' he said quietly. 'We need to get moving.'

Arthur nodded and packed up his blanket watching his older self talking to each member of their group, finally stopping at Merlin and evidently checking that the sorcerer was alright. Arthur tried to conjure up some disdain at the King's evident favour towards Merlin, but he found that the fight had gone out of him on that front. Whatever Merlin's plan was, Arthur was beginning to doubt his previous beliefs that it was to take over the Kingdom. Nothing that he'd seen backed up the idea. Perhaps the sorcerer had another plan, but Arthur couldn't build up any enthusiasm at the thought of figuring out what it was.

In fact, he felt empty somehow. He didn't know where he should go or what he should do. And just beneath the emptiness, there was a terrible gnawing ache in his stomach. It felt like anticipation, but not in a good way.

They had not walked very far that morning and the forest was only a dark line far in the distance, when the sight of a group on horseback coming from the forest caught their attention. The King and the knights had quickly moved into a fighting formation, pushing Arthur to the back with Merlin, who looked just as ill this morning as he had done the previous night.

After several long minutes, however, it became clear that the travellers were knights from Camelot and so they began heading towards them, no longer fearing an attack by rogue bandits.

It took a long time before they were close enough to see the people who made up the other group, but as soon as they were, Arthur felt the cold chill grip him once more. He didn't recognise any of the Knights –why would he?-, but he recognised the person leading the group.

It was Guinevere.

The sight of familiar faces seemed to spur the King and his knights on -even if it was with some trepidation as to why the Queen was riding out to find them, and evidently riding with some determination-, however, Arthur felt his legs slow in response and he made no effort to move in front of the knights, but stayed resolutely behind them, trying to make sure that Guinevere couldn't see him. Why that would help, he wasn't sure, but he felt much safer being concealed behind the knights.

Finally the two groups met, Arthur still resolutely hidden from sight.

'My Lord,' Guinevere called hurriedly, jumping down from her horse even before it had stopped.

'Guinevere, do not panic,' the King said gently.

'But-' she tried.

'Arthur,' the King called, cutting her off and evidently searching the group for the Prince. It was all Arthur could do to force his legs to move from behind the knights. He saw Guinevere's panicked face and watched as it smoothed out and her eyes closed in silent relief.

'With you,' she whispered. The King nodded and smiled at her. 'You wouldn't believe how worried I've been,' she continued breathlessly.

'I can imagine.'

'When we found they were missing we-'

'Wait,' the King said abruptly. ''They'?'

'Yes,' the Queen nodded in confusion. 'They weren't there yesterday morning and-'

'Both of them?' Merlin spoke this time. He had detached himself from the group and was now standing in front of Guinevere.

Arthur shrank back as he watched confusion settle over the faces of all those who were gathered. He hadn't decided what he was going to say yet to convince him that he didn't know anything. The Queen had caught him by surprise.

'Of course both of them,' she whispered.

'But only Arthur followed us,' the King told her, gesturing back towards his younger self.

'No, we spent the day searching for them in the town and the outlying farms. There were two sets of children's footprints by the stables and a woman who was up nursing her daughter saw them in the night, both on horseback. She said she saw two children riding.'

An air of uncertainty seemed to twist all around the group. Arthur didn't think that anyone had yet realised the truth and he tried desperately to think of something, anything, he could say to convince them that the evidence was wrong, but there was nothing. He looked round at the faces of the knights; their focus was on the conversation going on between their monarchs, but he noticed that Merlin was only half listening. His eyes were on the ground, a frown on his face as he tried to work out what was going on, and then, ever so slowly, he turned to look straight at Arthur.

Arthur felt the intensity of his gaze like the man's eyes were searching out his very heart. Searching and not finding what they wanted to. He saw Merlin's face sculpt itself into one of understanding and then disappointment, terrible heart-rending disappointment, which Arthur felt like a physical blow.

'Who told you Merlin hadn't gone as well?' the Queen was asking, her forehead furrowed in a frown.

'Arthur did, but…' the King stopped. As if in slow motion, Arthur watched all faces turn towards him, adding to the pressure that Merlin's look had forced on him. Understanding flitted round the group instantly. For the most part, disbelief was the chief expression that he saw gazing back at him, excluding of course, the disappointment that Merlin bestowed on him. He dropped his gaze from them, wanting to disappear, but even in his terror, curiosity got the best of him and he glanced up, searching out the one face that he really wanted to see. His own. Older and wiser, but his own nonetheless. He looked at the King, dreading to see disappointment on his face as well, but instead he was a met with an expression of fury. He stepped back under its intensity, terrified of what would happen next.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	16. Chapter 16

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Bit of a shorter chapter this time, but the next one's looking to be a bit of a giant one. Thank you again for the reviews! Lovely to read! Anyway, here you go. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

When he finally understood what had happened, Merlin found that he wasn't surprised. In fact, the only thing that did surprise him was that he hadn't realised sooner. Of course his younger self went with Prince Arthur; he would never have let himself get left behind. Merlin should know; he had done the same thing with his Arthur constantly. And it had seemed odd not to see the two of them together when the Prince had run into them in the Pass. The only question that still remained to be answered was what had happened to his namesake, but Merlin suspected he already knew.

Morgana had him. It was the only thing that really made sense. If his younger self was dead, then he wouldn't be here to think about it. If his younger self was being hurt, however, it would perfectly explain the strange attacks that were affecting him.

He'd said to Arthur the previous night that it felt like he was dying each time they happened. Perhaps that was because somewhere his younger self was. The thought made Merlin shudder. How terrified the boy must be; how betrayed must he feel? Merlin closed his eyes and tried to suppress the panic that was rising in him at he thought of the implications of their current situation. Instead he switched his focus back to the confrontation that was about to unfold and it was a good job he did.

Arthur was furious. The Prince understandably looked terrified, but Merlin struggled to raise any sympathy for him. What he had done was too fresh in Merlin's mind. He could see Arthur all but trembling with rage just in front of him as he menacingly took a step towards the Prince. Merlin hurriedly closed the gap between them and put a hand on Arthur's shoulder, while Guinevere rested hers on her husband's other arm.

'Arthur,' Merlin began carefully. 'Stop and think for a few moments.' It wasn't that Merlin didn't want to punish the boy; he did, but it wasn't in his nature to attack someone when they'd upset him. Arthur, on the other hand, looked set to tear his younger self limb from limb and Merlin wasn't sure that would help them very much.

'I _am_ thinking, Merlin. Very clearly,' he replied through gritted teeth and more than loud enough for the Prince to hear. He took several steps towards the boy, but they were measured and controlled and so Merlin allowed him to close the distance without saying anything else.

'Where is Merlin?' Arthur asked, pronouncing each word clearly. His tone was low and threatening. 'And if you even think of lying to me again…' he let the threat hang in the air. The boy's pale face shone where tears were beginning to make tracks down his cheeks. Merlin doubted he could have lied even if he wanted to.

'He…M-Morgana…she took him,' he choked out. He closed his eyes, evidently expecting a blow and for a moment, Merlin believed that Arthur would deliver one, but he stayed his hand. A terrible, all-consuming silence enveloped the group. Merlin waited for the verbal attack that was sure to come from Arthur, but instead the man turned round and spoke to him in a hushed voice.

'Merlin, what are the names of the knights that came with Gwen? They've gone from my memories.'

Merlin was so taken aback by the sudden calmness that it took him several seconds to answer. He frowned at Arthur and then muttered the names in a hushed tone.

'Sir Olen,' Arthur then said, turning fully to face the new group of knights. 'How many days supply do you have?'

'Three, my Lord.'

'Good. Take your men and go to the Caleron Pass; you are to search for Morgana and a young boy that she has with her.'

'Arthur,' Merlin whispered, 'she'll have fled. She won't be there anymore.'

'Do you have any other ideas?' he asked sharply but quietly so that only Merlin could hear.

'No,' he admitted reluctantly. Arthur turned back to the knights.

'At the moment her powers are very weak and the enchantments that Merlin has bestowed on all the knights will offer you protection. The child that she has captured is of utmost importance. Find him and bring him back.'

'Yes, my Lord.' They gave quick bows and then gathered the supplies they needed and set off. Meanwhile Arthur had turned his attention back to the others.

'Leon, Gwaine. Ride back to Camelot. Organise search parties across the whole of Albion and the outlying lands; anywhere that Morganna could have gone from the Pass of the Old Kingdom. Use as many soldiers and knights as you can spare. Explain the situation to them as fully as you can, but don't reveal to them who Merlin is. Finding him alive is your top priority

'My Lord,' Leon nodded.

Merlin could see the respite that Arthur had granted his young self coming to an end as the Knights left; although looking at the Prince's face and the fearful anticipation on it, Merlin began to think that Arthur was trying to frighten him more with the brief pause. Slowly, Arthur turned back to the Prince. The boy shied away under his intense gaze.

'Stay where you are,' Arthur told him. Merlin and Guinevere took up places just behind Arthur, both of them knowing that this was something he had to do alone, at least for now. Merlin knew what Arthur's temper was like -he had been on the receiving end of it plenty of times- and was ready to step in if necessary. Elyan and Pecival kept a respectful distance back, but Merlin could sense their tension.

'Stand there and tell me exactly what happened.' Arthur's voice has resumed its low threatening tone and now Merlin did find that he was beginning to feel sorry for the Prince, although as the story unfolded his sympathy lessened and lessened.

The Prince spoke haltingly throughout his recount, but with an alarming amount of honesty. It seemed as if he had finally given up the bravado of previous days; like he was tired of having to keep up a front of bravery and capability. He looked, for the first time, like a child lost and alone in a strange place. All the fight seemed to have gone out of him and regret poured from him like a waterfall. It did nothing, however, to soften Arthur's feelings. If the boy stopped, struggling with a part of the tale, Arthur would demand that he hurry up. If he began to whisper through his emotions, Arthur shouted at him to speak louder.

Merlin listened with a sad fondness for his younger self. He saw aspects of his own character displayed in six-year-old Merlin. He could see that the Prince didn't understand the other boy's actions or determination, but Merlin knew exactly what thoughts had been going through the boy's head, what motivations had spurred him on.

When the Prince told them about Merlin nearly falling from the ledge, a strange sense of déjà vu crept over them. Merlin expected the Prince to relate that part of the tale with pride, using it maybe to negate his later actions, but his voice remained hollow and desperate. Eventually he told them about meeting up with Morgana; about how Merlin came back to save him and how he ran off. He stopped there and more tears filled his eyes.

'You're a coward,' Arthur told him bluntly. The Prince shook his head. This only infuriated the King further; he stormed towards the boy and fisted one hand in his tunic, pulling him forwards. Gwen was there instantly, calming him, but he didn't let go. 'Yes, you are a coward. You left behind someone who had just saved your life.'

'No,' the boy whispered. 'It's worse than that.' Arthur let go, clearly confused by the statement. The boy put his head in his hands and sobs shook him. Guinevere made to go over and comfort him, but Arthur shook his head. She looked set to disobey, but eventually relented.

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'I wasn't afraid to help him,' he sobbed. 'I just didn't want to.'

A heavy silence fell over the group and Merlin felt his own disbelief at the words. Prince Arthur running away because he was frightened was forgivable; but running away because he wanted to leave Merlin to the mercy of Morgana? Merlin frowned. How could he be so vindictive, so full of hate at such a young age?

'How could you do that?' Arthur asked. 'How could you do that?' and this time he shouted it so loudly that the boy flinched and put his head down; his whole body shaking. 'Merlin is not your enemy! He never has been and he never will be!'

'I just-' the Prince tried, but he'd have been better off saying nothing. His attempt at justification only enraged Arthur further.

'Don't say a word. You are a selfish, arrogant, spoilt little boy. Who thinks of nobody but himself, listens to nobody but himself and happily leaves children to be murdered.'

'Arthur,' Gwen stepped forward. 'Enough now.' But Arthur shook his head and took another step towards the boy.

'Ten years from now, you're going to be sitting at a feast listening to a famous singer. And then a few seconds later she's going to throw a knife at you. And you're going to die…'

'Arthur,' Gwen warned. He ignored her.

'…because Merlin won't be there to save your life; because you left him.'

'Stop!' Guinevere told him, putting a hand on his chest and attempting to push him back, but he stood firmly. Merlin moved up beside him, but he knew nothing he said would get through. Prince Arthur was all but cowering under the King's furious gaze; he looked ready to faint, so great was his fear. He had wrapped his arms tightly around himself as if he was trying to shield himself from the fury directed his way.

'If we don't find Merlin, then all four of us are going to die.' Arthur said every word slowly and precisely. He stepped forward and the Prince stumbled back, tripping and landing heavily on his elbow. Having his hand wrapped around his arms meant that his finger nails sliced deeply into the flesh there. He let out a small cry of pain as blood began to seep from the nasty gash instantly, but Arthur didn't seem to notice the boy's discomfort. '…and it will be your fault,' he finished.

'Stop it!' Guinevere told him and this time she did manage to push him back. Her eyes were fiery and anger resonated off her. 'He's just a boy,' she told him, before turning and going to help the Prince. The boy shied away from her at first, but then accepted her help. Arthur stood rigidly where he was, watching the scene with little emotion. 'Merlin,' Gwen called. 'Come and heal this for him. He's cut his elbow.' Merlin looked over at Arthur, unsure of what his reaction would be, but Arthur's face had suddenly gone a deathly white. The anger had drained away from it and, as he stared at the injured boy, a terrible realisation seemed to settle on him. Merlin wanted to ask, but Gwen called him again and, hearing no objection from Arthur, he quickly did as she asked and healed the boy's arm. Gwen wiped the blood away and all that was left was a small scar.

The Prince didn't look at either of them through the entire procedure, but he seemed to edge more towards Gwen and noticeably flinched when Merlin touched him. As soon as Gwen had managed to get a mumbled response out of him to say he was alright, she turned to Arthur, evidently furious. She got up and walked over to him; he had moved back slightly and was still watching the scene with a strange detachment that Merlin wasn't sure was healthy.

He got up, leaving the Prince on the floor, his arms wrapped around his knees, and was about to make his way over the Arthur and Gwen when the, by now, familiar feeling of disorientation began to sweep over him. He managed to stagger a few steps forward, but past then he was forced to stop.

It was a strange feeling to describe. He could almost sense his body beginning to work more slowly; like the sails of a windmill after the wind had dropped. They continued going, but ever more slowly. But it felt like that in every aspect of his person. His mind began to slow, his body began to slow and his magic began to slow. It felt like he was disappearing and there was nothing that could pull him back into reality.

Up ahead, Arthur and Gwen were arguing.

'He's seven years old!' Gwen was saying. 'How can you be so callous to him?'

'Look at what he did!'

'He made a mistake.'

'Arthur,' Merlin called, with what little strength he had left. His cry went unheard by the King and Queen and the knights -who were watching the argument out of the corners of their eyes- but not by the Prince, whose attention suddenly fixed on Merlin. He got to his feet and hesitantly stood in front of him. Merlin tried to convey that he needed help and the boy seemed to understand, but it was with a great deal of fear that he looked towards Arthur, clearly wondering whether he wanted the King's attention on him again.

'Arthur,' Merlin said again, but this time it was directed at the Prince. The boy seemed to steal himself and then nodded.

'Hey!' he shouted. All eyes turned to the boy again, but then moved to Merlin on realising the Prince's intent. Arthur rushed over to him, quickly followed by the others. This time when he felt his strength disappear, steadying hands were there to lay him gentle on the floor. It beat falling off a cliff he distantly mused to himself as his consciousness began to slip.

'It'll be alright Merlin,' he heard as his eyes closed, but he didn't know who had said it.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: As promised, this is a much longer chapter than the last one. Hope you like it. Thank you for the reviews for the last chapter. They'd be just as appreciated for this one!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

The events that followed his abandonment at the Pass were somewhat of a blur to Merlin. The shock of Arthur leaving him had given Morgana the distraction she needed to haul him up and drag him in the opposite direction to where the Prince had gone. By the time Merlin attempted to shout out for help, Morgana had already clamped a hand over his mouth, forcing him into silence.

He attempted to slow her down by struggling and kicking out at her, but it was useless. Merlin knew he wasn't strong -Will had constantly teased him about it when they had play fought and played games together- but it had never bothered him until the moment when he was being dragged away by a woman who he didn't know, but who hated him for what he would one day become. He hadn't been able to stop tears spilling from his eyes as she forced him to go with her. She said nothing to him, but there was amusement in her face. When she looked at him, he wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.

Before he knew it, they were out of the Pass, but they weren't at the entrance that they'd arrived at earlier in the day. Merlin felt his heart plummet as he realised that they were on the other side of the mountains.

'They'll come and find me,' he said as bravely as he could when she had at last taken her hand away from his mouth, although her grip on his arm didn't lessen.

'I think not,' she whispered, smiling smugly at him. In the dull moonlight her eyes and hair seemed to be almost black, while her pale skin looked as white as snow. It gave her an eerie skeletal look that made Merlin shudder. 'No one even knows I have you.'

'Arthur will tell them,' he replied, but even as the words left his mouth he felt uncertainty fill him. Morgana looked at him and a horrible smirk distorted her features.

'I don't think you believe that any more than I do,' she told him. She seemed amused at the idea and Merlin felt like she was laughing at him. 'Arthur is not your friend just yet, Merlin.'

'Arthur wouldn't ever really hurt me,' he whispered, but his voice was shaking so much that the words were barely understandable.

'Pathetic,' Morgana sneered. 'You're just as stupid whether you're a child or an adult.' Merlin felt tears prick his eyes once more at the words, but he blinked them away. That wasn't true. His older self wasn't stupid and neither was he; she was just trying to make him feel bad. 'Do you really think Arthur cares what happens to you? I suppose you haven't heard how your precious King Arthur tried to kill Merlin when he found out about his magic.'

Merlin felt the shock vibrate through him at the words and it must have shown on his face because Morgana laughed once again.

'I thought not.' She began walking again, pulling him along with her. 'Trust me, boy; Prince Arthur won't say a word about what's happened to you. By the time anyone else knows, we'll be long gone.'

Merlin said nothing else. He was afraid that if he tried to speak he would cry and he didn't want her to see how much she was scaring him.

As the night wore on, Merlin made fewer and fewer attempts to escape from her. For one thing, he didn't even know where he was; even if he did manage to escape he would just be lost in the wild and he wasn't sure how long he'd survive on his own. And on top of that, he was exhausted. He hadn't slept in well over a day and the energy that had initially given him strength when Morgana first appeared seemed to have completely evaporated now. He didn't know if he'd be able to get more than a few metres from her without collapsing in a heap.

The only good thing about his faltering state was the fact that it annoyed the witch. Merlin wasn't sure it was a good thing that his lack of movement was irritating her, but it did give him some small sense of power and that helped him to believe that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't succeed in whatever plan she had for him.

That was another thought that began to occupy his thoughts, however, and it did nothing to ease his mind over the current situation that he found himself in. What was she going to do with him? He wanted to ask her, but the thought of hearing the plans for definite filled him with dread. At least at the moment he could pretend that she would change her mind and let him go back to Camelot safely.

He knew he was being babyish thinking like that. He still remembered King Arthur and Merlin facing Morgana in the clearing; they had been fearful of what she was going to do; they hadn't believed for one second that she meant to do them good. And he remembered her glaring eyes when he and Prince Arthur had been suspended in the sphere. He had seen the murder in her eyes; she hadn't cared that they were children and that they didn't have a clue what was going on; she had only wanted to hurt and kill them.

But she hadn't been able to, he reminded himself. The first glimmer of hope flickered through the dark thoughts in his mind. When she tried to attack them in the sphere, her spell had backfired leaving her powerless and he and Arthur completely unharmed. What had Merlin said? It was something to do with the protection that had originally been on himself and the King being transferred to their younger selves. The sorcerer had explained to him that the spells wouldn't let anyone hurt them. Weapons would be useless and so would magic. Of course, his older self had also said that they would eventually wear off, but it would take a lot to do that and Morgana hadn't got her magic. Or that was how the theory went anyway.

The knowledge began to calm Merlin somewhat. She couldn't actually do anything to him. All he had to do was wait to be rescued. Even if the Prince didn't tell them the truth, as soon as they all got to Camelot it would be obvious. He wondered if Prince Arthur would get into trouble. He found himself hoping that he would.

After what felt like hours –in which time Merlin convinced himself that Morgana was trying to kill him through exercise- they stopped at a small waterfall and lake. For one terrible moment he thought that Morgana was going to try and drown him. He eyed the water warily and took a few stumbling steps back, tripping on the loose shale that littered the shore and falling heavily. Morgana looked down at him with disdain and sneered again.

'You were clearly a clumsy fool at any age.'

He looked at the water again, scrambling backwards and trying to shut out Morgana's words. She laughed again.

'You think I'm going to drown you?' She crouched down and ran a finger down his cheek. The touch was light, but Merlin felt it like a knife; he half expected to feel a trickle of blood running down his face. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore her intense glare and the way she made him feel distinctly unsafe. 'Oh no,' she continued. 'I know what Merlin did that night; transferring his wards onto you. Weapons can't hurt you.' In a move which was as quick as lightning, Morgana pulled a knife from her belt and brought it slashing towards his face. On instinct, Merlin gave a yell and tried to move back, but Morgana's other hand was at the back of his head, holding it in place. Terror ripped through him. He closed his eyes; a terrible plummeting feeling filled his stomach making him feel sick.

But the agonising bite of the knife never came. He opened his eyes and saw Morgana bringing it slashing towards him again, but nothing happened. The knife glanced off his skin as if she had done nothing more than run a feather along his cheek. She laughed at him again, but stopped abruptly and forced his face close to hers.

'No, weapons can't hurt you,' she hissed. 'And magic would take weeks to break through the protection on you.'

'You don't have magic,' he whispered; his voice trembling. She put a hand around his throat and tightened her fingers. It made no difference to him, not with the wards on his body, but the intent in Morgana's eyes terrified him much more. Eventually she let go.

'I will have soon. But even when it returns that won't be how I kill you.'

Merlin closed his eyes tightly, trying to think of his mother and how she would sing to him when he went to sleep, but Morgana's voice cut through the pleasant memories of home; twisting his mother's loving notes into something dark and dangerous. She stood up and looked at the lake.

'Drowning?' she shrugged. 'Maybe; perhaps your wards would protect you. Merlin was coward enough to consider all possibilities.' She smiled to herself and then crouched down again, this time running a hand through his hair. 'But where would be the fun in that? Two minutes and it would all be over.' She cupped Merlin's face in her hand. 'But this way…' she smiled to herself, her eyes un-focusing as if she was imagining. '…this way, Merlin dies slowly. And Arthur has to watch,' she finished. Without saying anything else, she stood up and, much to Merlin's relief, moved away from him, her eyes fixed on the waterfall.

He considered making a run for it, but even the thought exhausted him. And Morgana knew it, he realised. She didn't even turn around as he struggled to get to his feet. He watched her carefully, looking for anymore signs that she was going to try and attack –even if it didn't affect him- but she seemed to be looking for something. Merlin thought back over her words. She evidently wasn't going to drown him or try to wear down his protection, but then what was her plan? He suddenly felt like not knowing was worse than at least having some idea of what to expect.

'What are you going to do to me?' he whispered. She turned and looked at him, a look that was almost one of fondness on her face.

'I'm not going to do anything,' she told him gently. 'I can't get through your wards. But Merlin won't have put anything in place for starvation and dehydration.' She smirked again. 'Do you know that the human body can't survive more than a week without water?' She stepped up to him. 'Tell me, Merlin; when was the last time you had something to eat or drink?'

Merlin felt like a shadow passed through him at the revelation. He had experienced hunger in his village before. The harvests were not always good and the winters could be harsh. Merlin well remembered the hunger pains that had gripped him, the way his head ached, his mother's desperate glances. It was not something that he wished to repeat, but his stomach was already cramping from lack of food. But water as well? He had never experienced that and he never wanted to.

He made his decision in a split second. Forcing his legs to move quickly, he ran towards the lake, determined to jump into it and drink as much water as he possibly could. At least that would give him a few extra hours and give King Arthur a bit more time to find him. But Morgana had seen the look that he gave the water and, as he was about to make a final leap for it, her arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back. He fought for a bit longer, but again it was useless. Morgana was right. He hadn't eaten or drank for hours; his body was tired and he was tired.

With a yell of frustration, he allowed his body to go limp.

'That's better,' Morgana told him. 'If you fight you'll just die more quickly.'

Those were the words that echoed around his mind as he allowed exhaustion to consume him.

* * *

><p>When Merlin woke, his first thought was that he was hungry and his second was that Morgana had captured him. Both realisations were enough to make tears spring to his eyes and he tried to wipe them away, only to find that his left hand was bound with rope which was fastened to a huge metal weight with a loop in the top. He looked around and was forced to squint against the relative darkness of whatever room or cavern he was in.<p>

The floor he was sitting on and the wall he found himself leaning against were evidently rock, and his body ached from having nothing more comfortable to rest on. It looked almost like a tunnel, but the part that he was in seemed to widen to form a room or a cavern of some sort. He could hear the sound of water somewhere off down the tunnel and he wondered whether they had gone behind the waterfall. His clothes did feel damp and he shivered as he realised how cold it was.

He glanced around the room again; it was lit by several small candles -some in lanterns and some resting on candle holders- and was filled with an assortment of odd furniture. In front of him, against the opposite wall, some ten metres away, there was a rickety table that had a collection of jewellery, coins and amulets on it. To the right of that was what looked like a straw mattress, on which lay a few clothes. Merlin frowned into the darkness and was just able to make out a few other small baskets with… Merlin felt his mouth water. There was food in them; just a few small bread rolls and a bit of fruit, but Merlin almost felt like he could taste them.

He glared at the rope on his wrist, studying it as closely as he could. Quickly he checked the room again, listening for any sound that would suggest Morgana was nearby, but there was nothing; nobody else was in the cavern. Convinced that he was alone, Merlin tried to loosen the cords on his hand, but it was useless. The rope was thick and immovable. He wondered if Morgana had used magic to make the knots impossible to undo, perhaps her magical abilities were beginning to come back.

Changing approaches, he tried to scratch away at it with his free hand, but it only grated away at his nails and made his fingers ache. He even tried the spell that Merlin had taught him when he first arrived. He whispered the word several times to get the right pronunciation until finally a small flame appeared on the palm of his hand. He couldn't stop the thin sliver of pride that filled him, and it was with grim relief that he looked at the bright spark in his hand and held it against the rope.

The rope may have been made out of metal for all the impact the flame made on it. With a sigh of frustration, Merlin allowed the fire to disappear along with his hopes for escape. It seemed that for now at least, he wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

><p>Arthur slammed his fist down on the table in his room and then lent against it, his head down and his posture tense.<p>

'Arthur,' Gwen's calm voice came, but there was an edge to it; she wasn't impressed with how he was reacting and, to be honest, he couldn't blame her. Yes, what the Prince had done was terrible and there was no excuse, but he was only a child; somewhere inside Arthur understood that. And yet, the more he thought about what had happened, the angrier he got with the boy.

The journey back to Camelot had been a tense one; that was for sure. Percival had loaded Merlin onto Halesha -who seemed to sense that her Master was not well and flitted around nervously while she was waiting to be untied- and the rest of them mounted their steeds. Of course, because Merlin had made his original journey on foot, the Prince didn't have a horse.

Eventually, Gwen had helped the boy onto her horse and given a sigh of frustration at the rest of them: Arthur for ignoring the Prince entirely, not even bothering to look at the boy; and the knights for making no move to offer a ride to their youngest companion. While Arthur didn't think that Percival and Elyan were anywhere near as angry as he was, they certainly weren't going to spare any pleasantries for the person –child or not- who had so callously abandoned Merlin.

And so the journey had been long and quiet. Arthur had kept Halesha tethered to his horse so that he could keep an eye on Merlin. The man had looked pale and tired, but after a gentle shake on the shoulder from Arthur, he had roused himself enough to offer a relatively weak smile. That was all though; he said nothing and made no attempt to sit up and so Arthur let him sleep, keeping his worries, which were rapidly increasing, to himself. He knew that Morgana's capture of young Merlin had something to do with he friend's deteriorating health, but he couldn't understand how it worked and didn't want to dwell on it for fear that his conclusions would do nothing but terrify him more about Merlin's prospects.

When they had arrived back, Arthur had again made no effort to acknowledge the blond haired boy, deciding that he would leave that to Gwen. Percival and Elyan had taken Merlin to his quarters and fetched Gaius to care for him, which suited Arthur fine: his friend's short breaths, white complexion and glazed eyes only tormented the King further. Instead, he had gone to find Leon to see how he was progressing with organising the search. Several parties had left already and a dozen more were getting ready to depart. Leon had it all under control, which left Arthur with nothing to do except consider the events of the day and fume over them. He had planned to join a search party, but he wanted to find out more about what was happening to Merlin and, as said sorcerer was the only person who would have any ideas and was currently unconscious, Arthur was forced to wait around.

'Arthur,' Gwen repeated when he ignored her. Usually Gwen was able to calm him; her gentleness and genuine nature left little room for anger, but this time she had no such effect on Arthur, instead she seemed to heighten his irritation.

'What?' he snapped, turning to face her. She looked a little taken aback by his tone, but shock quickly gave way to annoyance and she narrowed her eyes at him.

'You need to go and speak to him…calmly,' she added after a pause. He was already shaking his head.

'I haven't got time to speak to him and I certainly haven't got the patience to speak to him calmly.' He turned away from her and paced the room, resisting the urge to throw and kick things. What was wrong with him? He wasn't generally prone to such aggressive thoughts.

'Well find it,' she snapped at him. 'He's just a boy.'

'His actions weren't those of an innocent child. They were calculated and malicious,' Arthur shouted, whirling on Gwen and fixing her with a glare. 'I'm not speaking to him.'

'I'm beginning to wonder exactly which Arthur is the seven year old.' She shook her head at him and then walked to the other side of the room where the door that led to her adjacent quarters was. When they had got married, Gwen had agreed to have her own quarters, but she didn't use them very often. They both slept in Arthur's chambers and a lot of her things were there as well. But she did find a sudden interest in her quarters if ever they argued, and their current…conversation…was rapidly climbing up their worst arguments list.

'Don't act like I'm being unreasonable. You know what he did to Merlin-'

'Oh Arthur.' Gwen threw her head back in frustration and then turned back round. 'Look at what you're saying. Think about how you're acting. Don't you understand what's going on?' she asked him. The questions had taken him somewhat by surprise and it tempered his anger momentarily.

'What are you talking about?'

'It's not what he did that's bothering you.'

Arthur didn't bother to hide his utter disbelief at the comment she had made.

'Don't look at me like that,' she warned him. 'If you stopped for a few minutes to actually think, you'd realise that how you're acting is not like you at all, and once you realised that, you'd realise why.'

'I'm quite sure, Guinevere, that getting angry at a terrible wrong that's been done _is _just like me.'

'Yes, getting angry at first is, but not like this, not this never ending storming and fuming.' She stepped up to him until she was only a few meters away. The look on her face let him know that she expected him to listen to what she was saying. Reluctantly he did; Gwen had never proved to be wrong in these sort of situations in the past. 'This is what I know about you Arthur: you hate injustice and it makes you angry like nothing else does, but I also know that you always find ways of controlling your anger in order to deal with the situation in an objective and wise way. What you're doing now is nothing like that. This…' she gestured to him and the room and everything, '…this anger is something I've only ever seen on a couple of occasions.' He frowned at her. 'Think,' she told him gently. 'When was the last time that your anger was uncontrollable?'

'I…' he began, meaning to tell her that he couldn't remember anytime, but then it hit him. He knew exactly when he had been this angry. When Merlin had been gone for those six months.

Gwen must have seen the revelation in his face because she continued, stepping forward once again.

'You weren't angry with Merlin because of what he was or what he'd done as a sorcerer. You were angry because he'd hurt you. That boy hasn't done anything against you, not you personally. He hurt Merlin. So why are you this angry?'

He hung his head, unwilling to address the question, but now it had been voiced he couldn't let it lie again. He sat down on the chair, leaning back. He knew the answer already; it had been haunting him for the past few hours. He sighed and looked at Gwen.

'I look at him,' he began haltingly and then shook his head. Gwen waited, watching him closely. 'I look at him,' he tried again, 'and I see all my failures, all the parts of me that I've fought to get rid of.'

'You're not that child anymore,' she told him gently.

'It doesn't matter. I see in him the mistakes that I've made, the prejudices that I held against people all those years…I can't look at him, I can't speak to him, because he just reminds me of everything I've done wrong.' He clenched his fists, trying not to think of what the Prince had done to Merlin, but the image rose in his mind again.

'Arthur,' Gwen began slowly. 'When you made mistakes, people were there to point you in the right direction. What better person to do that for Arthur than you?'

'No,' Arthur shook his head again. 'I can't.'

'Arthur.'

'No,' he said again, a firmer tone creeping back into his voice. Gwen looked at him, disappointment on her face. She had wanted more from him, just as he had wanted more from his young self. She gave him a sad smile and then walked out of the room into her own quarters.

Arthur sighed heavily and tipped his head back, wanting, this time, to loose some of his memories. What he had said to Gwen was true, mostly, but that wasn't the reason that he couldn't go and speak to the Prince.

He got and began pacing the room. Until now, he had been able to accept the Prince's actions with nothing more than annoyance and occasionally some amusement. He had been able to detach himself from the boy's deep-rooted prejudices and the terrible things he had done…Until he had fallen and cut his elbow. Arthur gingerly reached under the sleeve of his shirt and touched his elbow, feeling the slight irregularity in the skin there.

Up until the Prince had fallen, Arthur had been able to view the boy with some distance, because he had believed, truly believed, that what was happening to the two boys had not happened to him or Merlin when they were younger. He had convinced himself that everything happening now had not happened for him as a seven year old. How could it have? He had no memory of it and no evidence to show that he had lived through this once before. Until the Prince had fallen.

He ran his finger along the raised skin on his elbow. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and he fought to stop a tear from escaping. He had a scar on his elbow that he had found when he was seven years old. He had no memory of receiving it, no idea what had injured him and no recollection of ever damaging his elbow.

Until the Prince had fallen.

There was a reason he couldn't speak to Prince and it had nothing to do with the boy.

Arthur headed over to the mirror and looked into it. For the first time in a long time, he didn't see the King he wanted to be looking back at him.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Next chapter for you all. Thank you for the reviews for the last one, and please review this one.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

Arthur curled his legs up more tightly as he lay on the bed. The pillow was soaked through from the tears that had spilled unhindered onto the soft material. He hadn't bothered to try and stop them; he was too tired and too ashamed. His eyes stung and felt swollen and the skin on his cheeks felt tight.

No-one had been to see him since they arrived back in the castle. He had been escorted up to the room and left to his own devices. Some food had been brought up to him, but he hadn't touched it. It still sat where the servant had put it on the table beside his bed. It wasn't that Arthur didn't feel hungry -he did- but he knew that if he tried to eat anything he would be sick. The deep aching feeling in his stomach was gnawing away at his insides and his chest throbbed in a way that it never had before.

Merlin. That was the only thought that occupied his mind. Never in his life could he ever remember feeling so confused and so unsure of what was right and wrong. Right and wrong had always been so easy for him. His father had made it very clear to him. It was right to do his duty to Camelot; he didn't really know what that meant, but he trained hard and listened to everything that his Father said to make sure that when he found out what doing his duty meant, he would do it well.

And it was wrong to help a sorcerer or practice magic or be friends with anyone who was associated with either of those things. That was what he knew. Just like it was wrong to steal and wrong to hurt an innocent person and wrong to get people into trouble. He knew all of those things.

It should have been the right thing to do, letting Morgana take Merlin –a sorcerer- away, even if she was going to… He felt more tears flow from his eyes and was going to stop the way his thoughts were going, but something inside was telling him to face up to what he had done. He resumed the thought. Even if she was going to kill him. That should have been the right thing to do. And it should have been the wrong thing to do when he stopped Merlin from falling off the cliff.

But the longer he lay on the bed, thinking and remembering and wishing and wondering, the more Arthur found his view of right and wrong changing and switching. He couldn't deny that it had felt right when he had saved Merlin from falling off the cliff, just like the King had done for old Merlin.

And, hardest of all, Arthur now knew that letting Merlin be taken by Morgana had been wrong. It had not been the right thing to do as he first thought, and somehow Arthur didn't think it had been his duty to Camelot to leave Merlin behind.

He had been wrong.

The moment that he had first allowed himself to word that revelation in his mind had been the moment when the tears started. That had been when all the regret and desperation to go back and change it had finally been released in all it's force and it had shuddered through his body while he lay there helpless to do anything but cry and hit the pillow and tear at his hair. He had lost count of the number of times that he had looked over at Merlin's bed during that time, the piece of furniture half blurred. He remembered how much the boy had loved the bed. And what had he done? Made fun of him. In fact –and this was what increased the swell of regret and self loathing that had begun to grow in him-, Arthur realised that in the entire time that he had been here he had not said a single nice thing to Merlin. He had not done anything but hurt and mock and belittle the boy.

And Merlin had just taken it all and then tried to help Arthur. He had said that he wanted to protect him and only now did Arthur realise that he had actually meant it.

Revelation after revelation dawned on Arthur as he lay there, shaking and sobbing, until he felt like his body could not contain so much sadness. And then came anger. Anger that he was here; anger that he hadn't realised sooner what Merlin was actually like and anger at himself for the terrible thing that he had done. He had scratched at his arms and legs, trying to punish himself, and then he had thrown things around the room and kicked the walls and chairs before finally returning to the bed to try and find some peace.

It eluded him, but a calmness borne of exhaustion was a welcome alternative. Yet with calmness came imaginings of what was happening to Merlin now because of him, because of what he had done. And the terrible understanding that he couldn't undo it, he couldn't make it better and he couldn't change things back to what they were. He couldn't even tell Merlin that he was sorry; maybe he would never be able to and that, too, haunted him; the thought that Merlin might die with that image of Prince Arthur in his head. He wouldn't see the change.

No, the boy that he had betrayed and left for dead wasn't here for him to apologise to, but –and at the thought he slowly sat up- someone a lot like him was here. Someone who might just listen to him if he could get to him. Even the thought of facing the sorcerer filled him with terror. No, he no longer believed that Merlin meant the King any harm, but he was willing to believe that he might easily harm the Prince given the circumstances. But that didn't matter any more.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Arthur padded silently across the room to the door. It was locked and there were guards posted outside, several of them. He knew that the exit to the secret passage would be blocked as well –he had heard the King giving orders to post guards outside that room. No, he would need another way out.

Several minutes of careful planning and preparation followed. He gathered up the sheets that covered the two beds in the room and quickly knotted them together before tying one end round the foot of the bed as tightly as he could. The other end of the makeshift rope quickly disappeared out of the window. He checked and was pleased to see that it reached all the way to the floor. Perfect. Checking that everything was in place, Arthur put the final part of his plan into action. He crept over to the door and quickly knocked over the vase that stood on the table beside it. It shattered with a loud crash; just what Arthur needed.

Instantly, he heard the rattle of keys as the guards searched for the ones to unlock his room. Not waiting for them, he ran over to the wardrobe, climbed in and pulled the door to. He had only just finished doing that when they burst into the room. The initial silence was quickly replaced by the clinking of chain mail as they ran over to the window, and then shouts of something akin to panic as they realised –or at least thought they realised- what had happened.

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity as guards rushed in and out and the King was brought in to see. Arthur winced as he heard the curses that his older self muttered as he was told what had happened and organised a search, but no-one checked the room. Everyone assumed that he had run away like a coward and a trouble maker. Arthur tried not to let the knowledge seep into his heart, but it was hard when there was so much emotion already stored in there.

Several minutes later, Arthur risked opening the wardrobe door and looking around. The room was empty and the door was open. He crept over to it and looked up and down the hall. There were guards posted outside Merlin's room, but they were focussed straight ahead, not on the supposedly empty room. As quietly as he could, he headed in the opposite direction to them; there was no way he would be able to get past them and into the room unseen, but then he had never planned on using that door to get to Merlin. With the stealth of a child trained in combat and strategy from the moment he could walk, Arthur ghosted along the corridor, unseen by all.

* * *

><p>Merlin opened his eyes and was relieved to find himself in his room. He saw Gaius a few feet away, busily pouring over books and herbs and potions on a makeshift work bench that he seemed to have set up in the room.<p>

'Gaius.' The man turned and gave Merlin a smile.

'Merlin. I was beginning to think you'd never wake up.' Gaius' tone was easy, but Merlin could see the genuine relief on his mentor's face as he said the words. Cautiously, Merlin attempted to sit up, but found that he was able to do so easily. In fact, he felt fine. He tried to remember what had landed him in a sick bed –even if it was his own- this time round, and it soon came flooding back to him. Morgana had his young self and was evidently doing her best to kill the boy. It made Merlin feel sick.

'What's happening?' he asked, allowing himself a few moments of respite from the dark memories.

'Merlin, please tell me that you remember what's happened.'

'Morgana, she's got young me. Prince Arthur leaving him…' he reeled off to put Gaius' mind at ease as he slowly walked round the room, testing his strength and sighing in relief to find it perfectly normal.

'And you remember that you're the Court Sorcerer?' the man prompted hesitantly.

'Court Sorcerer, Royal Advisor, Arthur's servant in all but title. Yes, I remember that, I meant, what's happening with the search and the Prince? What did I miss?'

'First, how are you feeling?' Gaius continued, fixing Merlin with a hard stare when he opened his mouth to argue that he needed to know the situation

'I'm fine,' he assured him. 'Really, I think these…attacks, just come randomly, or maybe it's to do with what's happening to my younger self.'

He stopped his surveying of the room at the thought. What was she doing to him? It was a question that Merlin was thankful he hadn't been able to address in his unconscious state, but now… He knew what Morgana was capable of; he knew what she would do to her prisoners regardless of their age. And if it could render Merlin completely immovable and out cold from this many leagues away and across so many years of currently unwritten history, then how on earth was his younger self coping?

'Merlin?'

'Gaius, did Arthur leave the pendant in here?'

The old man walked slowly over to the table, which was piled high with the dozens of books Merlin had been using to try and work out how Morgana had summoned enough power to break through time and how she had managed to work a spell of that complexity in the first place. Gaius ignored the books and instead searched through the bottom drawer of the desk.

'He wanted it left in here in case you woke up when he was away.' Gaius handed him the pendant and Merlin studied it intently, looking for any clues in its physical appearance that would help him to understand how Morgana had used it for her purposes.

'And is he away?'

'Well, he's in the town. Searching.'

'For Merlin?'

'For the Prince.'

'What? How can he have lost him this time?' Merlin spluttered. 'Didn't he lock him up as soon as we got here?'

'Yes, but it seems our young Prince has no aversion to climbing out of castle windows.'

'He did what?'

'The few soldiers that are left in the city are searching for him,' Gaius sighed.

'Why's he running, did Arthur threaten to execute him?' Merlin asked perplexed as to the boy's motives. Where would he go?

'I really don't know Merlin. I had a patient to attend to.'

Merlin sighed and allowed the subject to rest. He would find out if the Prince had been retrieved when Arthur came to see him. Until then he had the pendant to focus on.

'I took the liberty of doing some research for you,' the physician murmured as he spotted Merlin looking at the object. At the same time, he began checking Merlin's pulse and testing his reflexes. Merlin wanted to tell him again that he as fine, but he knew that his mentor was happiest when he was working and would not be satisfied with Merlin's prognosis on his health.

'Did you find anything?'

'Yes, as a matter of fact I did. I believe it is the pendant of Ayania of Laylon, a ruined city that lies in the very north of the country.'

'I've never heard of it.'

'You wouldn't have. It fell nearly twenty years ago in a magical attack.'

'Uther banned any talk of it?'

'He did, but I knew the story. A knight of the city wished to marry Ayania who was of noble birth, but there were several suitors that were seeking her. From what I hear, she was showered with any number of expensive gifts to try and win her over, but nothing seemed to sway her affection. In an act of desperation, the knight visited a sorceress and asked her to create something so beautiful that Ayania would choose him, and just to make sure, he asked the sorceress to place a spell on it to turn the young girl's heart.'

'I assume the price for this was high?' Merlin guessed.

'Very high. Any children the knight had with Ayania would be given to the priestess.'

'And he agreed?' he asked incredulously.

'He was not concerned for any children he might have, only for Ayania. She accepted the gift and they were married, but when their first child was born, Ayania found out about the priestess' plan –although not her husband's part in it- and fled with the baby.' At this, Gaius finished his examination of Merlin, evidently satisfied that he was, as he had said, fine.

'I take it the tale does not end happily.'

'Tales rarely do when magic has been used for wrong,' Gaius sighed. 'The priestess caught up with Ayania. She refused to give her child up; she tried to give the sorceress the pendant as an exchange, unaware that it had been forged by her in the first place. The priestess told her of its origin, but the moment Ayania understood the truth of her husband's actions, all her magically induced affection vanished. With nowhere to hide and her husband's betrayal in her mind, she threw herself and her child into a river. They were both swept to their deaths and the pendant disappeared. In her anger at the failure of her plan, the priestess destroyed the knight's city. The pendant disappeared, or so it was thought. Evidently Morgana found it.'

'A tragic tale.'

'Yes.'

They were silent for several minutes and Merlin stared at the pendant, wondering how something so beautiful could hide a past so painful.

'Merlin?' Gaius' voice was low. Merlin recognised the tone easily. It was one of sadness and worry contained behind a mask of stoicism. It was one that Gaius had worn a thousand times over the years and on nearly all of those occasions it had been his fear for his all-but-adopted son that had caused it. 'How desperate is the situation?'

Merlin couldn't meet his gaze for several seconds. He lowered the pendant, keeping his eyes on the beautiful stone that was set in the golden clasp, wondering if perhaps part of what they were all going through now had been heightened in it's desperation by the evil history of this piece of jewellery.

'You know us, things always look worse than they ever have done before.' He attempted a smile, but it was weak and it cracked and evaporated when he saw Gaius' face. He swallowed heavily and looked at the ground. 'I'm living on borrowed time, Gaius,' he admitted slowly. 'We all are. Not just Arthur and I…everybody. Camelot as a whole.' He looked up and saw the familiar face of his mentor, saw the sympathy and the compassion, but also the fear. 'Everything's crumbling and I don't think I can hold it all together for much longer.'

'What do you need?'

'I need to work out how Morgana did what she did, and I need young me back, safe.' He sighed. 'The first one is possible, but the second… It's not looking good Gaius. Arthur knows it and I know it.'

Nothing could be said in response to that, nothing could make everything better.

'Do not loose hope, my boy,' Gaius told him, hugging him tightly. You and Arthur have always prevailed in the past.' Merlin nodded, though he felt doubt taint his optimism. 'I will let you work. There are guards posted outside your door should you need them.' He picked up his medicine bag and headed for the door. 'And Merlin,' he added, turning back briefly, 'if you're going to faint, aim for the bed.' Merlin grinned at the comment and nodded his agreement.

As soon as Gaius left, Merlin began his work. At first his thoughts frequently wandered to his young self. Terrible imaginings of what Morgana was doing to him filled Merlin's mind. He knew that the boy was covered in so many wards it would takes Morgana weeks to do him any real damage, but somehow she was at least partially bypassing the wards; why else would Merlin be feeling such drastic effects when there was nothing wrong with him? And yet the fact that these attacks continued to come and go, reassured Merlin that, at present, whatever Morgana was doing was not having a fatal effect.

Not fatal, only reminded Merlin that his young self was surviving whatever torture Morgana was throwing his way. He was only a boy. A boy who, Merlin knew, always trusted in the good of people. He had been naïve almost to the point of stupidity as a child. Arthur would say he still was now, but he knew that wasn't true. His experiences and the hardships of his adult life had shaped him and forced him to review his ideas on the world. The grounding of his friends and family had been enough to keep him optimistic and ultimately hopeful despite the horrors he had seen. But if he had experienced those things as a child would he have come out the other side so safely? Would he have been able to endure such terrible things and still retain hope that one day it would be better? He wasn't sure and that was what frightened him for his younger self.

No, the boy couldn't be physically or magically harmed, not to Merlin's knowledge, but emotionally and mentally... The boy had no defence against that, and that could do some serious damage that Merlin didn't want to dwell on.

And so he didn't. He forced his thoughts away from the captured boy, trying not feel like he was betraying his young self by pushing him from his mind.

Instead he focussed on the one thing that he, and he alone, could do. Figure out the pendant. He began small. A few gentle prods at it with magic just to check that there were no traps or spells attached to it that could harm him, but even as he probed deeper nothing was revealed to him and so cautiously he began to lace it with his own spells. He used magic to identify the sources of its power and the way it had been used. He looked back through its recent history as stored within the magic that held it together. Before long he was getting a picture of what Morgana had done. Not words exactly, but more her intent. He was able to piece together the montage of inclinations and motivations and purposes that Morgana had etched into the magic fabric of the pendant. If he delved deep enough, he would have such a clear picture of Morgana's intent that he could begin to deduce what spells she had used. The would come the not so simple task of re-enacting some and reversing others.

He investigated the pendant for a long time. His joints grew stiff and his body ached in protest at being held in the same position for so long. All the while he muttered incantations and enchantments, until he felt like he knew the pendant and understood it. At last, he let out a relieved sigh and all but fell into a sitting position on his bed. He had done all he could; he knew as much as he ever could about what Morgana had done. Now was the task of using that same magic for his own purposes.

He hurried over to his desk and scribbled down everything he had discovered, just in case his memory decided to delete his current findings. He had just finished doing so when a sound behind him caught his attention. He paused and then quickly turned round.

He was hard pressed to contain his surprise at the sight of Prince Arthur standing in his room.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	19. Chapter 19

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you again for the reviews. Here's the next chapter. Please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

Merlin looked from the Prince to the very-much-closed door of his room, to the window and then back to the Prince.

'How did you get in here?' he asked slowly. He guessed that, really, the best question would have been why are you here, but the means by which the boy had got in seemed much more pressing in his mind at that moment. He looked at the door again and then turned a full circle trying to look for a means of entry, but there was none. He looked back at Arthur who looked not a little terrified and set to bolt at any moment.

'Through the secret passage.'

'There isn't a secret passage into this room,' Merlin argued.

'Yes there is,' the boy whispered. 'I found it last year.'

'There isn't a secret passage into this room,' he repeated.

'How else do you think I got in?' the boy asked, his initial fear seeming to subside somewhat with his annoyance at not being believed. Not that he had earned anybody's trust thus far, least of all Merlin's.

Merlin looked the room over again, hoping to find that the boy was wrong, but there didn't appear to be any other way he could have gotten into the room. Merlin felt a distinct irritation bubble up in him at the thought that Arthur -King Arthur- had known about a secret passage into Merlin's room for the past year and a half and hadn't bothered to share that information with him. Why would he have done that?

'There isn't a-'

He was interrupted by a heavy sigh from the boy who walked over to the wardrobe on the far side of the room, opened up the doors and pointed at a very distinct passage-like feature that seemed to stem from it, the back panel having slid to one side. Merlin made a note to yell at Arthur when he next saw him. He had said he didn't like that piece of furniture when he first moved into the room and Arthur had told him that it couldn't be thrown out because it was an antique piece of furniture that dated back eight generations of the Pendragon family. As such, Arthur had told him, it needed to stay where it was. Merlin walked over to it, peered into the tunnel, then straightened up and gave the wardrobe a kick for good measure. Antique furniture! He'd always thought it didn't look that old. What had Arthur thought? It'd be a good way to spy on his Court Sorcerer and check he wasn't switching sides? An old insecurity crept up and Merlin forced it back down. He wouldn't dwell on it.

'Why are you here?' he asked instead, turning to the Prince. His irritation had made his tone harsher than he had meant it to be and the boy took half a step back. Merlin considered repeating the question more gently, but then he remembered what the Prince had done and decided the boy didn't deserve it. But still, Merlin waited for the answer with no idea as to what it was going to be. Perhaps the boy had come to try and kill him. Merlin imagined the Prince running at him with his fake sword and attempting to skewer him with it. That seemed unlikely, however.

'Well?' Merlin asked, when the boy made no attempt to speak. He suddenly seemed very nervous and uncertain.

'What is she doing to Merlin?' came the whispered and very much unexpected response from the Prince. Merlin narrowed his eyes and studied the boy intently; was this some sort of plan on the boy's part to…to what? Evoke sympathy; find out if he'd succeeded in his plan?

'What?'

'I just wondered if you knew?' His voice was getting quieter with every word he spoke and Merlin was reminded of the terrified boy that had confessed all that he had done on the journey back from the Caleron mountains.

'But you don't care about him,' Merlin replied slowly. He tried to keep the disappointment and anger out of his voice, but the boy still reacted to the words as if they had been flung at him in fury. He took several deep breaths and his eyes began to shine.

'I…I thought…I didn't understand what he was doing…nothing made sense.' The boy's jumbled responses were filled with sadness and regret and Merlin, despite himself, felt his heart softening slightly. 'That's why I'm here,' Arthur whispered, the words somewhat choked by tears which he struggled to wipe away.

Merlin looked at him. How could this boy, this clearly upset, confused and frightened boy, have done something so terribly destructive and malevolent? What had gone on in his head to make him believe that he should and could leave a young child in the hands of a bloodthirsty sorceress? How was that possible? And suddenly Merlin wanted to know. He wanted to understand.

'Arthur,' he said, sitting down on the bed and studying the boy intently. Eventually he raised his head and looked at Merlin. 'Why did you do it?'

The boy's face crumpled instantly and he shook his head, his breathing increasing as tears once again trickled down his face.

'I'd like to know,' Merlin prompted. 'I think I of all people deserve that from you.' He kept his tone even; he knew that Arthur, old or young, would not respond well to anger directed at him. It was always much better to take a gentle and somewhat sideways approach. Arthur didn't look at him, but he did nod his head at the comment. He took several deep breaths and then began, slowly and uncertainly.

'I thought magic was evil. That's what my father says and I've seen lots of horrible things being done by sorcerers.'

'We told you when you first arrived that it wasn't like that.'

'I thought…' he stopped and shuffled uncertainly from one foot to the other. '…I thought that you had enchanted the King to believe that.'

'I wouldn't do that,' Merlin told him firmly, but his voice was quiet enough that it didn't startle the Prince.

'I know. Merlin said you wouldn't, but I didn't listen. I didn't listen to him at all because I thought he was evil just like all the other sorcerers.'

'That's not a reason to let him be captured by Morgana,' Merlin told him.

'It wasn't just that. He kept on being nice to me, even thought I was horrible to him.' He sniffed and swiped at his eyes. 'He wasn't acting like I thought he should and I was getting confused and everybody believed him and liked him and you all hated me. No-one-'

'Wait,' Merlin interrupted. 'You let Morgana take him because you were jealous?' This time he didn't moderate his voice. He stood up from the bed and fixed the boy with a hard stare.

'No!' Arthur argued vehemently, 'but it made me angry and I didn't understand what was happening. And then I saved him from the cliff and I know my father would have been so disappointed in me and then Morgana captured me and I thought Merlin had run off and I was glad because then I knew that I'd been right about him all along. But then he came back and I was so cross.'

'Because he saved you?' Merlin asked in disbelief. Arthur nodded and tears began to pour down his cheeks once more.

'I didn't…I was…' he closed his eyes tightly and sat down on the floor, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking. Merlin looked at the pitiful sight and couldn't associate it with the Arthur he knew, just as he couldn't associate the boy's actions with the Arthur he knew. Merlin curled his fists at his sides and clenched his jaw. He was so angry that his young self had been taken because of this boy; not only that, but that he had been taken because of a misguided anger and jealousy. Suddenly Merlin felt an anger that, until now, he had not held towards the boy. Part of him wanted to use his magic and scare the boy somehow; if he wanted dangerous, destructive magic, then Merlin could give it to him, but he knew that would ultimately make things worse.

Instead, he took several calming breaths and, through all but gritted teeth, asked, 'Why are you here?' He sat back down on the bed, waiting for the answer, unable to look at the boy. The reply, when it finally came, was closer than Merlin had expected.

'To say I'm sorry.' The words were barely above a whisper and so choked with tears that they were hard to understand, but Merlin heard the genuine tone in them. He looked up to see Arthur standing on the other side of the bed. His arms were held at his sides and his face was contorted with sorrow. There was a helplessness about him that made Merlin's heart ache; an anguish and regret that nothing Merlin said or did could make any better or any worse. Prince Arthur was beginning to crumble under the guilt of what he had done and it stirred feelings of protectiveness in Merlin that he had only ever experienced when it came to the King.

'I'm sorry,' he repeated. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry.' Merlin didn't even think the boy had meant to repeat himself, he just didn't know what else he could say. That was all he had to offer to make up for his actions; two words that, in all likelihood, he had rarely used before. And yet Merlin knew that Arthur had never meant anything more in his whole life; he could see it on the boy's face. This was all he could think to do to make it up to Merlin, six-year-old Merlin, not the Court Sorcerer, not the friend and advisor of the King. The blond haired boy wasn't here to talk to _him_, Merlin realised. He was trying to speak to the boy that he had hurt, the only way he thought he could. He looked up and met Merlin's eyes for the first time since he had started his explanation. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered once more.

'I know you are,' Merlin told him gently.

'I didn't realise…'

'I know you didn't. But do you now?' he asked carefully. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out; he nodded his head instead. There was an awkward silence after that affirmative from the Prince. Had it been his younger self standing in front of him, then Merlin would not have hesitated to hug the boy as a means of -if not forgiveness- reassurance, but this was Arthur, and Merlin had a feeling that even as a child he would not feel comfortable with that sort of contact. What would be an action that the boy would respond to more easily? Merlin hit upon it in a matter of seconds. He had seen Uther do it to Arthur over and over again and Arthur had adopted it as his own sign of friendship and affection.

Slowly, so as not to alarm the boy, Merlin moved around the bed and sat down so that he was in front of the Prince. With a small smile, Merlin raised his hand and placed it firmly on the boy's shoulder, squeezing gently.

'Thank you for the apology,' he said. 'It means a lot to me, and it would to Merlin as well.' Arthur nodded uncertainly, clearly unsure as to whether Merlin was actually being truthful.

'What's she doing to him?' he whispered, finally returning to his initial question.

'I don't know,' Merlin admitted, keeping his guesses, some of them more sinister than others, to himself. 'But we just need to find him as soon as we can. There are searches out there. We'll find Morgana.' He tried to say it with confidence, and he thought the Prince bought it. He only wished he could convince himself as easily.

They sat in silence for many minutes. Merlin was going to suggest that the Prince go back through the secret passage to his room, but the boy seemed content where he was. He looked around at the different artefacts and souvenirs that adorned the walls and so Merlin left him to it and turned his attention back to the notes that he had been making. It wasn't until quite a while later that Merlin remembered what Gaius had said earlier. He turned to the Prince.

'You do know that everyone's looking for you, don't you?' he asked. 'They think you've run off.' Arthur nodded.

'I pretended to climb out of the window. I wasn't sure they'd be stupid enough to believe it.' Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes; clearly his guilt and regret hadn't affected his arrogance and disdain.

'Maybe they think you're stupid enough to do it,' he suggested nonchalantly. Merlin looked up at the Prince to gauge his reaction. A look of shock replaced the despondency that had been there before. Merlin saw him puffing up, ready to be the spoilt Prince once again and stepped in before he became that monster. 'It's a joke, Arthur,' he explained calmly. 'Don't take everything so personally.'

'But that was about me.'

'But you're not stupid, are you?' Arthur shook his head. 'Then of course it's a joke.' He looked unconvinced, but didn't start calling Merlin a peasant, which Merlin saw as progress.

'Why do you speak to Arthur like that?' he asked after a moment. 'He's the King.'

'He's also my friend.'

'But…' he sighed.

'For my first four years here, I was Arthur's manservant,' Merlin explained. 'We've always spoken to each other like that.'

'But he's the King.'

'And as King,' Merlin pointed out, 'he could quite easily have fired me if he wanted to.'

Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but then frowned at the words and seemed to take great pains thinking them over. 'But I'm still here, so…'

'I wouldn't let anyone talk to me like that,' Arthur continued cautiously after a moment or two.

'How did Merlin speak to you?' Merlin asked. He picked up the pendant and studied it, allowing the Prince some privacy in case the question reminded him again of what he had done.

'He…' Arthur paused. Merlin glanced over at him and saw him puzzling it out. '…he argued with me and he just kept talking.'

'Did you tell him to stop?'

'Yes.'

'Did he listen?'

'No.'

'Imagine that for four years. Trust me, you'll get used to it.'

The Prince grew quiet once more and, glancing at him from the corner of his eye, Merlin saw that he was watching him uncertainly again. There was still a lack of trust there, still an expectation that at some point Merlin would use magic against him, but there was also a desire to understand, and a willingness to risk being proved wrong. It gave Merlin hope that in actual fact, this boy could become the King that Arthur was, but it also filled Merlin with a great sadness, because he knew that what he had done to Merlin would jade the Prince. The more he became the person Merlin knew, the more his actions would eat away at him, just as they were already starting to do.

'You know Arthur, you really should let people know that you're still here. They're wasting soldiers searching for you that could be searching for Morgana and Merlin.' He said it gently. The Prince was about to respond, when heavy footsteps were heard outside the room. Merlin recognised them instantly. He could see from the boy's face that he had guessed too. A look of panic glazed his features and he seemed to consider diving back towards the secret passage, but there wasn't time. The door flew open.

'Merlin,' came the King's relieved voice. 'I've just spoken to Gaius. He told me-'

Arthur stopped mid-sentence, his mouth poised to continue speaking, when he caught sight of the blond haired boy standing in Merlin's room. Merlin watched both of them with a strange sort of detachment. King Arthur's face quickly morphed from shock into a smooth anger. It wasn't unpredictable and volatile like it had been when they'd found out what had really happened in the Pass of the Old Kingdom; this anger was like ice – hard and unforgiving, but also unmoving. His eyes fixed on the boy, unrelenting and devoid of all warmth and sympathy.

Prince Arthur, on the other hand, adopted a similar, if slightly less panicked pose to the one he had worn earlier that day. There was still the undeniable fear of what the King would do to him and what the man's anger might send in his direction, but there was also a sort of pained acceptance on the boy's face; as if he was willing to bear with the hostility directed his way; to receive his judgment with no argument or attempt at defence.

Merlin waited for the conversation to begin, but it never came. The King, after looking at the boy for several seconds, turned away and called to the guards at Merlin's door. They quickly entered and stood awaiting their orders.

'Take this boy to the dungeons and put him under guard.'

'Arthur,' Merlin said in shock. He glanced at the boy and saw the indignation rise in his cheeks at the command, but he held his tongue, waiting instead to see what effect Merlin's words would have.

'I've wasted valuable resources on him and I'm sick of chasing after him when he runs off.'

'Then lock him in his room,' Merlin suggested.

'He was locked in his room. The dungeons,' he instructed the guards, who had been watching the exchange. It said something of Merlin's authority within the castle that the guards had waited to see if the King's orders would hold after the sorcerer had spoken.

'Get off me,' the Prince said as the guards began to pull him away, but there was little conviction in his voice. He tried appealing to the King instead. 'I won't leave my room again, I promise.'

'Your promises aren't worth anything,' Arthur replied without looking at him. Merlin gave the King a look of disappointment which Arthur saw and promptly ignored. Instead the King moved further into the room, walking past Merlin and waiting for the guards to go. Merlin tried to convey to the Prince that he would help him, but the boy didn't seem to understand. Perhaps the leap from believing a sorcerer would harm you to believing he would help you out of the dungeons was still too big for the young Prince. The door slammed shut behind the guards. Merlin turned on Arthur and raised his eyebrows questioningly, awaiting an explanation. Arthur chose to ignore that as well.

'What the hell was he doing in here?' he shouted, all pretence of calm gone.

'And here I was thinking you were coming to check I was alright.'

'What was he doing here? How did he even get in? I've had guards posted!'

'Oh that's easy, Arthur.' Merlin walked over to the wardrobe and slid back the panel. 'He came through the secret passage that leads into my room. He found it last year apparently, which means that you've known about it for about twenty years. Funny…you never mentioned it to me.'

For a moment, Arthur looked a little guilty, but he quickly continued, choosing not to address the comment.

'What was he doing here?'

'He came to apologise,' Merlin explained, walking over to the wardrobe and sliding the back panel into place. He would leave the conversation about the secret passage for now. It was, perhaps, not the most important thing to focus on at the moment. He turned back to Arthur who was looking somewhat dumbfounded at the idea of the Prince apologising. He shook his head.

'Are you really going to leave him in the dungeons?' Merlin continued, when Arthur just stood there.

'Yes I am. And don't,' he added as an after thought, 'break him out of there.'

'Arthur-'

'I mean it Merlin.'

'He's seven years old.'

'I've already had this conversation with Guinevere.'

'When is she ever wrong?' Merlin asked. 'Arthur, he apologised. Something's happened. He's different.'

'It doesn't change what he did, Merlin. He left you to Morgana.'

'He didn't leave me to anyone,' Merlin frowned. 'I'm here, Arthur.'

'You know what I mean.'

'Arthur-'

'Have you found anything out about the pendant?' Arthur cut across. Merlin looked at him incredulously; was he really going to just pretend the Prince didn't exist? The impatient look on his face clearly suggested that was exactly what he was going to do. Merlin sighed, but let it go. He'd be able to wear Arthur down about the Prince, especially if he'd got Gwen on side as well.

'Actually, yes,' he muttered, going over and picking it up. He held it out for Arthur to look at. 'I've got an idea of the spells Morgana used to set everything up. I really need to spend some time in the clearing. I'll have to lay down the spells again and re-empower the ones that are still left there.'

'So you can send them back?' Arthur asked, his surprise at a solution so soon evident in his voice.

'I think so. I mean, it might take a while to set up, but we have the key components that she used and they're still all linked to the original spells and enchantments. I can sense them and redirect them.'

'So, we can do this?'

'The magic isn't the problem,' Merlin said quietly, 'not really. That's not what's missing.' He sighed and saw Arthur's face sober with understanding. 'If we can't get him back, nothing will work; he's one of the links. And I don't know about you, but my memories are slipping away. I hardly remember anything about my childhood.'

'Neither do I,' Arthur admitted.

'And if these attacks keep happening to me…' Merlin let the sentence trail off.

'How much time are we looking at?'

Merlin debated giving him the overly optimistic answer, but Arthur would never buy it. He had only just bought Merlin's lies before his magic was revealed. Now he was lucky to get away with anything. 'I'd say two days, three at most.'

He saw Arthur visibly pale at the estimates. He glanced around the room, seemingly looking for a solution in the walls, but none was forthcoming.

'By then,' Merlin continued, 'our memories will have gone, or I'll be dead because of what Morgana's doing to Merlin.'

'You said she couldn't hurt him.'

'She's found a way.' The despair on Arthur's face, made Merlin want to do something, anything that would soften the blow. 'When will the first of the search parties be back?'

'Tomorrow morning.'

'Maybe they'll have found Morgana and Merlin.' The statement hung heavy in the air. They exchanged a glance; neither bothering to reinforce the words with false agreements.

'We'll continue so that if it comes to it, we'll be able to send them back. You said you need to go to the clearing?' Merlin nodded an affirmative. 'What about the attacks you're having?'

Merlin shrugged. 'I can't stop them wherever I am. At least if I'm in the clearing I'll wake up somewhere I can be of use.' Arthur looked unconvinced, but eventually nodded.

'Take Elyan with you and plenty of supplies. I'll stay here and co-ordinate the search efforts.'

Merlin nodded and mentally listed the things that he would need. Supplies were easy, and his magic books and equipment could be easily packed onto Halesha. There was, however, one other thing that he would need. He steeled himself.

'Arthur,' he called to the King, who was already heading out of the door. Arthur turned back. 'I'll need to take the Prince with me.'

'No,' Arthur told him. There was no pause of consideration, no shock or disbelief, just one simple word.

'He's one of the links in the enchantments. Everything will go quicker if he's there.'

'No.'

'Arthur!'

'I said, no! I don't trust him and neither should you. The last thing we need is him running off into Albion. He's staying where he is.'

He strolled out of the room with not so much as an apologetic nod in Merlin's direction. Merlin considered flinging some sort of spell at him, just to give him a bit of a shove, but resisted. It would have been nice to have Arthur's permission, but it wasn't absolutely necessary. There had been plenty of occasions in the past when Merlin had gone against Arthur's wishes for the man's own good. Why change the habit of a lifetime?

He packed the things he would need, a plan already forming in his mind.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	20. Chapter 20

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: And thus begins my long apology and explanation. I'm really sorry for the delay in updates. I know exactly how frustrating it is when a story just stops with no explanation. Here goes mine.

Not last Sunday, but the Sunday before, my computer crashed and gave me the blue screen of death. What followed was a week of my dad and me trying everything we could to retrieve my documents (including this story) which hadn't been back up. (I know, I know. Always back up your work; I was told exactly the same last time. To be fair I had backed them up a month or two ago, but evidently that wasn't enough.)

So… after a failed attempt by my dad and me, I took it into my work's technician who removed the whole of the hard drive and linked it up to cables, which didn't work, so he bought another set in, which also didn't work, so he brought his entire collection of spare cables in, which worked!

Then I had to download my entire C drive onto my external hard drive. Then install Windows 7 on my laptop and everything else (Microsoft office, Adobe, Flash Player, Email, Norton Antivirus and my documents). Then I managed to lock myself out of my computer by mistyping my login password when I first chose it. It took me hours of trying every possible combination and extra letters and missing letters until I finally got it right. And now I've checked this chapter, written a ridiculously long A/N to you all, which you're probably not interested in, and I am basically saying sorry!

Barring another crash, updates will be regular again. I'm just hoping I haven't lost too many of you on my forced hiatus. Some reassuring reviews would be lovely!

Anyway, definitely enough from me. Next chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

Merlin shivered. It wasn't cold; he knew that much. The sun was shining down though the trees, baking the soil. It was dry, like his mouth and his throat and his cracked lips. It was warmer than it had been since Merlin arrived in future Camelot, he was sure, and yet his teeth chattered together like bones rattling. His whole body trembled.

He didn't know where he was. Morgana had moved them so many times since the waterfall cave that he had given up trying to keep track of their whereabouts. It was all he could do to stay on his feet when she dragged him along. Many times even that had been too much; she had hauled him over rocks, through knife-like grass and across stretches of uneven forests and woods, not caring if he slipped. His legs and knees were riddle with bruises and gashes that were red and inflamed. No, staying on his feet was hard enough without having to try and focus on where he was going as well.

He had never felt like this in his life. Never had he felt this weak, this pained. He had worried that Morgana's plan would remind him of hard times back in Ealdor, but his current situation made even the harshest winters seem like a banquet of rest and relaxation. It was the pain that he couldn't believe. His head was constantly attacked with sharp, slicing pains which seemed to stab right into the very centre of his mind. He would grip his head in both hands, trying to somehow squeeze the pain out of it, only to find himself shutting his eyes tightly and living through each second like it was an eternity. He could barely think straight and his sight was temperamental: sometimes so blurry that he could barely recognise his own hand, sometimes so sharp that he had to close his eyes to try and shut out the intense glare of light and colour.

His aching muscles protested every movement. It felt like he was tearing through them with each step that he took, with each flailing of his arm as he tried and failed to steady himself from a fall. He tried to rest his muscles when he could, but vicious stomach cramps caused him to double over and his back screamed in protest at the movement. All he could do was stand there, his chest heaving and his eyes trying to water against the onslaught.

Where were they?

He had tried not to ask himself the question at first, but now it was the only thought that was truly lucid in his mind. Why hadn't they come and found him? Where were King Arthur and Merlin? Why hadn't they found him yet?

How could Prince Arthur do this to him?

What had he done that was so terrible that Arthur had let this happen to him? Merlin had said that one day they would be friends, but how could they be? How could they ever be friends when this was the first thing that Arthur had done to him? Merlin had thought that he could show the Prince that he was genuine, that he could help, that he wasn't evil or out to hurt people. He had wanted to show that he wasn't a monster and in doing so had allowed Arthur to become one. He should never have gone with him. He should never have tried to be the person that his older self was. That wasn't him and now it never would be; not if they didn't find him soon.

He could feel a dark shadow creeping up on him, sapping at his strength and will. How long had it been since he had eaten or drunk? He hadn't had food since evening on the day he had left Camelot. That was nearly two days ago. And when was the last time he had had water. He vaguely remembered a stream that he and the Prince had stopped at. When had that been? It had to be over a day. Morgana had had him for longer than that as it was.

Should he be this weak and this affected already? He could hear the Prince's voice in his head, telling him he was weak and pathetic, telling him that somebody who was strong and brave and important wouldn't have felt like this so soon. They would have fought on; they would have found a way to escape. But there was no fight in him anymore. There hadn't been since he realised what she was going to do to him. Any attempt to fight on his part would only make him weaker and he needed to hold out for as long as possible.

Why? He shook his head, but bit into his lip at the sharp pain that shot through it. They were coming for him…weren't they? _How?_ The Prince's sneering voice filled his head again. _Why would they come back for you? You're nobody important._

'I am,' he snarled into the air.

'My, my. Talking to yourself already.'

Merlin opened his eyes from where he leant against a tree in the forest, his breathing short and laboured. The magic rope was still twisted around his wrist, but was now attached to the trunk of the tree.

'Who do you suppose will hear you?' Morgana continued, crouching down. She held a water skin in her hand. Merlin could see the rim shinning where it had recently been exposed to water. He felt the strange sensation of his mouth trying to water without the liquid. His body was not wasting fluids on anything so trivial as wanting nourishment or crying, yet both were central in his focus.

Merlin ignored the question. It was what he had taken to doing. He had tried to talk to her at first; he'd thought that maybe he could make her understand, but it didn't take long for him to realise that she already understood. She knew that he was innocent at this point; she knew that he was frightened; she even knew that using a child was a terrible thing to do. She just didn't care. That revelation had been the final blow for Merlin. He had always counted on the fact that people cared. He always cared; his mother always cared. All the people he knew cared about what they did and who they hurt, and Merlin didn't know how to talk to someone who didn't. Because if they didn't care, then what could ever convince them to show compassion or empathy or any of the things that made up who Merlin was?

'Oh, Merlin,' she went on, her voice silky. 'I know that you like to talk. I'm more than happy to listen.' She took a deep swig from the water skin, smiled at him and then tipped the remainder of the water on the floor, just beyond his reach. She did it slowly, watching him at all times. He looked away. He could understand that she was hurting him to get to Merlin; he didn't know how she could do it, but he at least understood her reasons. But what reason could she have for taunting him? He hadn't done anything to her. All she really needed him to do was die and he was fulfilling his role perfectly. Why couldn't that be enough for her? What depths of hatred and evil were buried in her soul to make her mock him like she did? What had Merlin and Arthur done to her to make her hate them so much?

Questions. They circled his mind like vultures, and he had no idea what the answers were.

'How many days would you say you can last Merlin?' she asked nonchalantly, walking around the clearing and sorting through the few belongings that she seemed to carry with her. The few places that they had stopped at had been stocked with anything else she needed. She seemed to have an entire series of hide outs scattered all over the land. 'I am getting a little impatient. But perhaps if I know how long you're going to last, I can go to Camelot and see Merlin's dying breath and Arthur's heartbreak. I'm not sure about the Prince; I doubt he'll mourn for them, least of all you. But to see the faces of the two men that have caused me so much pain…I think I'd like that.' She smiled to herself for several seconds and then looked at him again. In a sudden movement, she was in front of him, peering into his face.

'Do you want to know something else?'

Merlin considered shaking his head, but he wasn't sure how she'd react so he settled for looking at her in reply.

'I thought so. Let me show you.' She stood up again and took several steps back. She took a deep breath and then muttered some words. Her eyes glowed gold and suddenly the earth shook below them. Leaves fluttered down from the tree tops and Merlin heard the wood of the trees creaking all around him. He closed his eyes, unwilling to see a tree crashing down on top of him, but then it stopped. Morgana was wearing a look of triumph.

Her magic had returned.

Merlin felt his hope diminish even further. If she had her magical abilities back, then how would the others ever save him?

'I've been using it to wear down your wards. Just in case I need a quick death from you.'

'You won't…' he began, but his throat screamed in protest. He attempt to swallow and managed to moisten his throat just enough to utter a few words. 'You won't be able to get through them.'

'I'm willing to believe that at a certain point, the weakness of your body will cause their strength to falter.'

Merlin shook his head, but the words resonated within him. How could his magical wards possibly be strong when he was fading so rapidly?

'Either way, Merlin, I will be the last person you see.'

Merlin's eyes began to sting at the words, but try as he might, he could not release his anguish through tears.

* * *

><p>Arthur took several calming breaths as he made his way down to the council chambers to get an update in the progress of the search teams. His distraction in the form of the Prince's alleged escape had meant that he had missed the first scheduled review of their findings –not that there would be any news yet-, but he was determined to make up for lost time now.<p>

He strolled purposefully down the corridors, trying to decide, as he did, where Morgana might possibly have gone. Leon had sent people to all her known hide outs, but he knew she wasn't going to be in any of them. The trick was to narrow down the places that they hadn't been, but which could serve as a refuge. The hopelessness of the task weighed heavily on Arthur, but he didn't know what else he could do. There was no other way that they could find her apart from looking. He suddenly wished that he had something productive that he could do to speed to process along. Merlin, at least, had the spells to set up and review; he had a sense of purpose, but Arthur was hard pressed to work out exactly what his purpose was at that moment in time.

Turning yet another corner, he all but ran into Guinevere. One look at her face told him that she had seen the Prince being dragged away by the guards. She didn't even bother to talk to him. She gave him a look of disgust and then walked passed him like he didn't even exist. The intensity of her anger knocked him slightly. Had she ever looked at him like that before?

The truth was, he didn't know. He had been trying and failing to ignore the fact that his past was becoming a series of black, empty spaces in amongst a few snatches of memory. He'd been telling the truth when he'd agreed with Merlin that his childhood memories were disappearing. He could remember certain events and people, but everything else had gone. But worse still was the amount of more recent memories that had now vanished. He was beginning to forget things about his relationship with Guinevere. Try as he might, he didn't remember proposing to her and he only remembered the wedding ceremony itself, not the days before or after. He knew that had stayed with her when he was pretending to be a knight for a tournament and he remembered her getting cross at him, yet nothing else about that event came to mind. He was sure it was a significant part of their relationship, but he couldn't recall the majority it. Their courtship was clearer in his mind, but there were bits that didn't make sense, which he assumed was because not all the pieces were there.

The memory loss wasn't affecting his feelings for her. He loved her more than anyone in the world and the knowledge that he was hurting her through his actions stirred the emotions that he, as a husband, would always feel in that situation, but he worried that before long, even his love for her would be lost in the disappearing memories. It hurt and panicked him, but he could do nothing about it.

In a way, though, he was much more worried about forgetting Merlin. He had never felt any ill-will towards Guinevere; not as far as he remembered, but the things that she had said to him before he left for the Pass of the Old Kingdom had stuck in his mind. What if he forgot forgiving Merlin after he'd found out about his magic? What if he forgot about their friendship and their history and was left only with the memory of a sorcerer who, for several months, Arthur had wanted to kill? It still shamed him to admit it, but it was true. If he forgot those things, if he turned on Merlin, then everything was lost.

He ground to a halt as a sudden thought seized him. A servant passing in the hall gave him a confused glance as she saw her King literally stop dead in a corridor, but he ignored her. He looked ahead; the council chambers were just around the next corner. He could go and sit through the meeting, listen to Leon tell him that the searches had found nothing yet, but that it was early days. Nod along to their suggestions, all the while feeling despair set in, or he could turn around, go back to his room and make sure that, no matter what memories went or how close to the end it came, he would know that Merlin was to be trusted and listened to.

The two options hung in the air like weights on an invisible scale and it did not take long for them to tip in Merlin's favour. In the end, the entire success of their plan hung on Merlin. Arthur could not afford to let a few lost memories and one terrible misunderstanding of his friend's loyalty destroy there only hope of getting their lives back. He had to remember who Merlin was and he knew how to do it.

* * *

><p>Arthur wasn't going to cry, of the he was sure. He'd done enough crying today, much more than was right for a Prince and it was going to stop now. Even if he was locked in the dungeons of his own castle; even if everybody thought he was a murderer and a liar; even if his older self had been the one to throw him in prison. No, he wasn't going to cry.<p>

And he wasn't going to complain either, not this time. He had changed since the Pass. He knew it was stupid: how could anyone change in such a short amount of time, but he had. And so he wasn't going to act like they expected him to. He was going to sit in the dungeons and take his punishment. At least for a while.

Staring at nothing but blank walls, he found his thoughts drawn to Merlin, and not just young Merlin and his betrayed face when Arthur had left him, but also the sorcerer Merlin. He had been…kind. That had shocked Arthur a little; he had expected someone who was evidently so powerful to be intimidating and firm and cold, but Merlin wasn't. In fact, compared to the King, he was much gentler and much more willing to listen and even…forgive. No, Arthur shook his head. Merlin hadn't forgiven him, but he believed him; he knew that there had been a change. Arthur struggled with the understanding that his only ally in this place was a sorcerer.

Perhaps Merlin would be able to talk to the King and get Arthur out of the dungeons? Arthur didn't want to hold out too much hope. After all, he had been put in here by the King; only someone incredibly foolish would attempt to get him out of the situation.

'Arthur.'

The voice slipped into his room in a harsh whisper, making Arthur jump. Startled, the Prince looked around, searching for the owner. It was only when he glanced at the window -which gave him a limited view of the street floor and showed him that he was below ground level- that he realised who it was. He couldn't hide his surprise when he saw Merlin's face peering in at him.

'What are you doing?' the Prince whispered, hard pressed to keep the incredulity out of his voice. Here was the Court Sorcerer, lying flat on his stomach on the ground so that he could talk to a seven year old boy who had caused him nothing but trouble.

'I need your help.' Arthur just looked at him. Was there any point explaining that he was locked up? 'I'm going to get you out of there.' Arthur felt a grin creep onto his face at the thought, but smoothed it out quickly. He didn't think disappearing again would help his case with the King.

'I don't think you should.'

'I'm not going to break you out of there, don't worry. Arthur told me not to.'

'Then…?' But rather than replying, Merlin said some strange words and held out his hands towards Arthur through the bars. It took all of a split second for Arthur to register that Merlin was using magic on him. He gave a yell of terror and backed up as far as he could, only to slam his back into the bars. He couldn't escape, he couldn't get out. He felt his heart race and watched helplessly as Merlin's eyes turned gold for a second.

'What did you do to me?' Arthur screamed, looking down at himself, checking his body, searching for any sign of dark magic infecting him and killing him. He couldn't see anything, but that only increased his panic further. What was happening? What could he do?

'Arthur. Arthur!' Merlin was trying to get his attention, but Arthur could barely hear him.

'How dare you! How dare you use magic on me! Take the spell off me now, this instant.' He checked himself over again, spinning around and searching for whatever effect the magic was meant to have. When he next looked up at Merlin, the sight that he saw filled him with fury and he suddenly forgot that Merlin had proved himself to be a trustworthy person. He was smiling. Not just smiling, but laughing.

'What is funny?' the Prince demanded.

'Nothing,' Merlin choked. 'It's just. This is exactly how Arthur reacted the first time I used magic on him. Well…the first time he knew, anyway.'

Arthur stopped his frantic searches and prepared himself to deliver a long string of curses and insults at the man, but as the meaning behind the words sunk in, he found his anger dissipating. They had both reacted in exactly the same way? An inexplicable peace settled on him, just for a few seconds. But then he caught sight of Merlin grinning again and fixed his glare back into place.

'What have you done to me?'

'Nothing serious. I've just made you invisible.'

'What?' he yelled.

'Don't worry, I can change you back, but I need you to get out of the dungeons first.'

Arthur opened his mouth to argue again about how he couldn't use magic on the Prince of Camelot and how he would have him executed for it, before he remembered that he was trying to show people that he was different. He closed his mouth and gave a sigh.

'How?' he asked through gritted teeth.

'That's easy. Just wait for the guards to come round. They'll open your cell to find out where you are and you walk out.'

'Isn't that a bit, over the top?'

'Arthur told me not to break you out, so I'm not going to. You're going to walk out.'

'But…'

But Merlin had disappeared and all Arthur heard was a faint instruction to meet him in the courtyard. With an infuriated sigh, Arthur turned around and looked down the hallway, trying to see the guards, but there was no movement yet.

Arthur looked down at his hands. He could see them perfectly well and Merlin had been looking directly at him when he explained the plan. Maybe the man wasn't as good a sorcerer as everybody seemed to think.

He didn't have to wait very long to find out for sure. The scrape of boots on stone echoed from the far end of the corridor. The guards were beginning their rounds. Arthur held his breath as they got closer to his cell; he doubted that Merlin had made him silent as well as invisible. Would this really work? One look at the guard's face proved that it had. A look of terror flitted across the man's features and he frantically searched through the keys and slammed the right one into the lock. By the time the man left the cell again, Arthur was running up the corridors and heading for the courtyard.

* * *

><p>Please review!<p> 


	21. Chapter 21

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for the lovely reviews. I'm so pleased I haven't lost you all. This is somewhat of a mammoth chapter compared to my others, so you might have to give me until after the weekend to get the next one out, but hopefully this will suffice for now!

This is one of my favourite chapters so far, so I hope you like it. The first half was written before my computer crashed and the second half was written tonight, so if one half is riddled with errors, that's why!

Anyway, hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

As soon as Arthur sat down at his desk and pulled out a new scroll, he felt stupid. Wasn't this the sort of thing that women did? Record down their thoughts and memories in writing? He had never done anything like that. The only things he ever wrote were speeches, and even then he usually discarded them for Merlin's much more eloquent and heart wrenching versions. He really had no idea how Merlin managed to write things down so perfectly. It was one of the few things he envied him for. Because the truth was that Arthur really didn't envy Merlin. Occasionally, before he had known about the prophecies that were associated with his friend, Arthur had envied the fact that Merlin didn't have the responsibility weighing on his shoulders that Arthur, as the once future and now actual King of Camelot, did. How many times had he said something along those lines to Merlin; that he couldn't possibly understand what it was like to have a path marked out for you that you had to follow? He cringed when he thought of those times now. Merlin had never once let on that, in actual fact, he was struggling with the same burdens. He had just offered Arthur the words that he needed to hear to make the situation seem just that little bit more bearable. And yet Arthur had never questioned how Merlin seemed to understand exactly what he was going through.

There were so many things that he hadn't bothered to question when it came to Merlin; he had just accepted the man into his confidence and into his affections without so much as a moment's thought to consider how utterly ludicrous and undeniably odd their relationship was.

Yet it was a bond and a friendship that he knew he would have undoubtedly faltered without. For some strange and highly irritating reason he needed Merlin with him, and in realising the possibility of that very thing disappearing in their current situation, Arthur was being filled with a terrible sense of dread. That was why he was going to write down the events of that day and the thoughts that he had had, which had unquestioningly changed the course of the future. That was why he was going to sit here and record every last detail that he could remember of the moment when Merlin had come back to Camelot. He could not afford to turn against the man again if his memories failed him and so he would make them permanent in ink.

He wasn't sure when or where to start and so he built up to the actual event slowly, explaining to his possible future self, all the emotions he had felt before hand. It hurt to have to dredge them up again and be honest about how dark his thoughts had been, but he knew that if he forgot his memories, he would not accept a written explanation unless it was proved to be him that had written it. Some of the things he wrote down were things that only he knew; not even Guinevere knew everything that he confessed to the parchment.

With that done, he began his task of reliving those moments up on the castle battlements. He remembered them clearly. Despite the fact that he rarely dwelt on them, they were some of his most vivid memories. How could they not be when they had so drastically transformed everything he knew about himself and magic?

* * *

><p>Going up onto the battlements had been their only remaining option at that point. Many of the city's soldiers were searching for Merlin and those that were left were quickly succumbing to the dreadful fear that the black shadow seemed to create. Arthur didn't ask anyone to come with him. He had been quite prepared to face the foe alone and die facing it alone. They had tried everything else to kill it; all their weapons had proved utterly useless. His last stand had been planned as just that. There was no chance of victory, but if he was going to die, it would be as a King fighting for his people. He had wanted everyone else to flee, but his closest knights, the knights that had brought him from Prince to King, had chosen to be by his side.<p>

He had said a sad and desperate farewell to Guinevere; had heard her screams of denial as she was dragged away from him. But he hadn't wanted her to die; he wanted her to live, if she could. And so he had given the order. A few soldiers, along with Gaius, had carried it out. He was later told that the knights had fled before they'd even left the castle. Arthur had wanted to blame them, but he knew too well the heart-shattering influence of the black shadow.

With Guinevere gone and his faithful knights at his side, Arthur made his way through the corridors of the castle –his home- until they reached the battlements. The terrible creature of dark magic –for that was what Arthur assumed it was- had descended low over the city; a black cloud that blotted out all other light. But now it had drawn itself into a much smaller point, just above the castle.

Arthur had never truly been able to describe what he had seen and felt at that moment -not that he thought about it very often- but his one clear impression of the creature was despair. Despair in its most tangible and destructive form. Arthur looked up into the twisting heart of the shadow and knew what it was like, for the very first time in his life, to wish for death. He had never felt that before, even in his lowest points, but standing on the top of his castle, feeling and knowing the overwhelming power and the terrible evil of the dark magic above him, Arthur had wished that he could die and never look on the sight again. He knew his knights felt the same way; he could sense it in every slight movement and sound that they made.

Even so, he lifted his sword, but the weapon shook in his hand. That was something else that had never happened to Arthur. His sword was like an extension of himself and it gave him a certainty that nothing else did. He never felt inadequate or without purpose when he had his sword in his hand, but the trembling of the sleek metal betrayed him. And it wasn't fear that was causing the shiver –although he was more frightened than he had ever been in his life. No, it wasn't the fear. It was the battle that raged through him at that moment. The battle between his instincts: to give up and face his death without defiance, and his mind: to stand strong until the last. That was what caused the blade to shimmer in the darkness.

He turned his attention away from it and instead looked back at the blackness above them. He watched it with the same anger that had become his everyday companion since Merlin had gone. The same uncertainty in who he was and what he should do riddled him, just as it had since he had realised who Merlin truly was; how he had betrayed Arthur and the whole of Camelot. For one moment, Arthur thought that maybe, just maybe, Merlin had conjured the dark shadow to destroy them all. But even he, in all his twisted fury against the man who had been his closest friend, could not equate the darkness above him with the friend who had once been beside him.

That shocked him, angered him, even more. He had thought that Merlin had gone past the point of ever being viewed in his mind in a favourable way. But sure enough, when Arthur looked at the magic force that was about to destroy him and the magic force that was Merlin, he realised that there was a difference. His mind raced over the idea, confusing him, forcing him to rethink what he had learnt and it made him angry once again. He gave a yell of frustration and despair and hatred and hefted his sword into the air towards the creature.

The shimmering darkness seemed to pulse quickly for a moment, almost like some great creature laughing at his feeble attempt at attack. But the movement quickly changed. One long arm of the blackness seemed to suddenly detach from the main body and then began to twist impossibly fast, narrowing at the end as it did, until it produced an enormous limb that looked exactly like a sword; just as sharp, yet a thousand times bigger than Arthur's own weapon.

The limb was drawn back, ready to strike. Arthur put his shield in front of him. He knew that it was useless; like trying to fend off a dragon attack with sheets of parchment, but he didn't care. This was how he had lived and fought all his life. It would be how he died.

He watched, the despair growing, his angry regret encompassing him, as the arm flew towards him faster than he could track.

A shape detached itself from the shadows around him atop the battlements and Arthur realised what it was going to do. He opened his mouth to yell a refusal, but the sound never left his mouth as the shape, now evidently a person, threw itself between him and the killing strike and took the full force of the blow. Arthur braced for the impact of the person's body –a man's body- being forced back into his by the undoubtedly colossal strength of the darkness, but it didn't happen. The man stayed rooted when he was, his arms flung out to the sides, his back arched backwards slightly, and his head tipped towards the sky.

A strange light was beginning to glow from the front of the man, the side facing the creature; like a shield of light which was the exact shape of his body. And then a scream -one which brought a tear of desperation to Arthur's eye- was ripped from the man's throat. There were two reasons why such an unusual reaction was produced in Arthur: one was because the sound the man made was like the dying howls of injured creature who was enduring a torture beyond what it could endure. And the second was because he recognised the voice, even distorted and agonised as it was.

Merlin.

Arthur stood there, with Merlin's screams his only point of reference in the world that was rapidly disintegrating before his eyes. He tried to remember why he had banished Merlin; he tried to remember that use of magic was against the laws of Camelot; he tried to remember that Merlin had lied to him for years and betrayed him. But the only thing he knew at that moment was that he couldn't bear the thought that Merlin was in so much pain.

It didn't matter what he had done, or what he could do, or that he had lied. All that mattered was that, at one point, Arthur had trusted him above all other people, had regarded his counsel more highly than that of anyone else and had known that he was the truest and closest friend that Arthur would ever have. And he was hurting; he was dying, only a few inches from where Arthur was standing… and he could do nothing to help him.

The scream seemed endless. If it stopped, it was only long enough for Merlin to take another deep breath and repeat the sound. Arthur felt his insides coil and twist as a sickening feeling encompassed him. He wanted to put his hands over his ears; wanted to block out what was happening, but he couldn't. All he could do was stagger slightly to the side and move forward a few steps until he was looking at Merlin's face.

There he was confronted with the face of a man who he had shared some of the most important events of his life with. Including the one that he was currently living through. Merlin had come back. Come back from where? Where had he been? How had he hidden from Arthur's searches? And why had he come back? But Arthur knew the answer before he asked it; had known the moment he realised who the figure was. Merlin had come back to save Camelot. To save Arthur. As he always had done.

Arthur was forced to step back as the brightness that was forming the shield protecting Merlin, suddenly intensified. And then, slowly but gracefully, the shield began to expand outwards. Intricacies of light and pale colours began to twist and wind their way forward, forming patterns that seemed to hold the light together and strengthen it as it stretched out into the night and forced the blackness back. It was easily the most beautiful and most mesmerising thing that Arthur had ever seen.

As soon as the shield began moving forward, Merlin stopped screaming. Yet far from relieving Arthur, this only served to increase the sickening feeling that had gripped his chest. It was easy to see from the look on the man's face that the pain had not subsided in anyway. It was still there, but now, whatever Merlin was doing, required too much focus for him to waste energy screaming out his pain. His body reacted in other ways, however, and soon it began to shudder violently. The pressure of whatever he was doing seemed to be shaking the very fibres that made up his person.

Again, all Arthur could do was watch.

On the other side of the battlements, the knights were just as transfixed at what was going on. The shield was still expanding, but now Arthur noticed something different about the way it was forming. The patterns no longer seemed random; the colours no longer thrown together. Arthur gasped in disbelief as he began to recognise aspects of Merlin in the shield that was pushing the blackness back. He couldn't describe or explain it exactly, but it was as if the colours that were edging their way forwards and mixing with each other were exact representations of some part of Merlin. The patterns seemed to spark something in Arthur's mind that was linked only to his once-friend. Every part of the shield now seemed to hum with Merlin.

His disbelief and awe, however, soon dissipated as he began to ponder what that could mean. He looked at Merlin's again, but his face had smoothed out and his body had stopped shaking. He was perfectly still, but it was a calm that unsettled Arthur. The deep uneasiness that had rooted itself in his stomach began to blossom in tangible fear. He looked from Merlin to the shield and realised that of the two things, the one that now made him think of Merlin was the shield.

Merlin was pouring himself into the shield. He was the shield. He was forcing his mind, soul, spirit, anything that made up who he was, into a human shield.

'No,' Arthur had whispered. No-one had heard him, but he heard the word and wondered at it. Because when it came down to it, after all the anger and hatred and confusion and feelings of betrayal, there was one truth that Arthur hadn't realised he was holding. He had missed Merlin and the thought of him dying was unacceptable.

For that was why he was here. Arthur saw it now, saw it so clearly that he berated himself for not realising as soon as Merlin had rushed across. Merlin had come back to die. He had come back to sacrifice himself…again. How many times had he done it before? How many times had he risked his own life to save everyone else's? How many times had he shown that his loyalty was to Arthur and Arthur alone?

Arthur saw the last six months of his reign pass through his mind in a matter of seconds. He watched his actions with a mix of disbelief and disgust. How could Merlin, regardless of magic, ever have been someone that Arthur needed to hunt down and kill? Merlin, who would never hurt anyone. Merlin, who had allowed himself to be bossed around by Arthur for years. Merlin, who had never done a selfish thing in the entire time that Arthur had known him. How could Merlin be anything like the sorcerers and magic users that Arthur had encountered in his life? How could Arthur have been so blind as to not see Merlin's lies for what they were? Protection. For himself, but also for Arthur. What had he said before he disappeared? _I can't protect you if I'm dead. _That was always what it had been about for Merlin. It was in his nature to protect and he had done just that. Always.

Arthur smiled, just briefly, as he realised that he had been wrong, that Merlin had never meant him any harm, or even any hurt. He had only wanted to protect. The smiled faded almost before it had begun. He had realised too late. This was it now. This was Merlin's final attempt at protection.

Arthur felt a deep regret pass through him at the revelation. It was too late. Too late. There was nothing he could do now. Merlin had set a course of events in action when he had stepped onto the rooftop. A course of events that Arthur could only watch with an aching sadness and quiet desperation. And so he did. He decided in that moment that whatever happened he would watch Merlin and remain by his side. Whatever the outcome. That was what they had always done before; that was how they had lived their life as Master and servant, as King and subject. As friends.

Arthur clenched his fists at his side. He had let Merlin down. He saw that now. He had let him down. Merlin had never once let him down, never once had he abandoned Arthur or given up on him, even in his dark moments. Merlin had been there through all his faults –and there were many- through all his moments of uncertainty and weakness. Merlin had stood by him.

And Arthur had let him down; had forced him to flee; had hunted him down. Regret was soon joined by shame in Arthur's mind and he let it swamp him, just for a few seconds, before pushing it away and focussing on Merlin once again. He would stay by his friend's side. Even if it was too late now, even if Merlin wasn't even aware that he was there. Arthur would stay.

He moved closer to Merlin –or Merlin's body at least, for he wasn't convinced that his friend was contained within it anymore- and took up a vigil beside him. He avoided touching the man, unsure of how that would affect whatever was happening, but he got as close as he could. He had to shield his eyes against the bright light of the shield. It was so intense that the entire roof of the castle seemed to glow as if bathed in the midday summer sun. But for all its brightness, Arthur could not help but notice that the darkness was not subsiding. It seemed to hum again just outside Merlin's shield of light and then, unexpectedly, it surged forward. The shield held for several seconds, but even Arthur could see it buckling under the pressure. It was forced back, until tendrils of the shield seemed to re-fuse with Merlin's body.

Suddenly, Merlin's body took a great gasp of breath and then staggered back several steps, Arthur at his side. Arthur recognised Merlin again; he was no longer fully in the shield, somehow the darkness had forced him back inside his body.

He was loosing. The thought filled Arthur's mind even before the telltale signs of pressure resumed in Merlin's skinny frame. He trembled violently and his face contorted with pain once more. And all around them, the darkness began to swell; pressing its advantage, pushing Merlin back, evaporating the light of the shield.

'Help.'

The words were forced out so quietly and with such restraint, that Arthur barely heard them, but the sound of Merlin's familiar voice after such a long time, was enough to attune Arthur to the man's plea. Fulfilling the request was another matter. Arthur looked around frantically for anything he could do to comply with Merlin's request, but there was nothing.

'Help,' the man repeated and the words, though spoken so quietly, seemed to resonate with a power and compulsion that made Arthur feel his helplessness even more keenly than he had before.

'I don't know how,' he replied, just as quietly. Merlin's face seemed to smooth out at the sound of his voice, just for a moment, but it was short lived and seconds later, the darkness was pressing him again. He seemed to steel himself for a moment and attempt to gain the upper hand once again, but by now the darkness was encompassing what remained of the shield. The castle was no longer glowing; it had taken on a dusky hue instead. Arthur saw the end approaching as rapidly as the light dimmed. He looked at Merlin, but the man's eyes were closed and his features were like stone; his concentration in the battle that was still going on.

Arthur clenched his fists at his side. They were going to loose and he would not get a chance to tell Merlin that he had been wrong. Never in all his life had he ever wanted to admit that he was wrong, least of all to Merlin, but now as he saw where his life would end, he was filled with an overpowering desperation to talk to Merlin once more and admit that he had been wrong, that he was sorry and that he understood all that Merlin had been trying to do to save them over the years.

Lost in his own regrets, Arthur failed to notice the door onto the battlements open. It was not until a few seconds later that he became aware of movement around Merlin. Lots of it. There were people; dozens of them. But the only one he recognised was Gaius. The rest of them looked like ordinary people, town workers, farmers. From Camelot, he was sure, but very ordinary.

What were they doing? Arthur frowned, but his expression soon switched to one of panic when they all reached out to touch Merlin. He opened his mouth to warn them of the dangers of doing so, but before he could, they had already made contact. Arthur opened his mouth again to ask what they were doing, but a split second later, all thought of talking died as he watched their eyes, every single one of them, turn a glowing gold.

They were using magic. On his castle rooftop there were thirty or forty of his people using magic, including his court physician. He froze, unable to say anything even if he wanted to. Old feelings of outrage and hatred began to creep up his spine. He forced them down again, fighting his own internal battle, even as Merlin's raged on.

How many sorcerers were there in Camelot that this many of them could turn up when half the city had fled? A shudder passed through him. He pushed it down. They were trying to help, they must be. _Help._ Arthur shook his head in disbelief. Merlin had called for them. He hadn't been asking Arthur. He had been searching for anybody that could help him to finish what he started. And they had come. They had come, despite the fact that their magic-hating King was on the roof, despite the fact they risked execution by coming to Merlin's aid.

Instantly, Arthur made a decision. He turned away from the faces of the people gathered, making no attempt to remember what they looked like. That way, he would have no reason to punish them, he wouldn't even remember who they were. Instead, he focused on Merlin. The shield, which had begun to dim, was strengthening again. Tendrils of light were crawling around the back of Merlin and linking to the hands of the people that were gathered behind. A similar light began to emanate from them. It was nowhere near as bright as Merlin's, but when that light was drawn out and added to Merlin's shield, it increased the intensity in seconds. It was brighter now, than it had been before.

They were lending Merlin power, Arthur realised. They were giving him just that little bit extra that he needed.

The next few minutes confirmed Arthur's suspicions. Merlin's shield swelled, and once again the darkness was forced back. But still, even with all the extra power, Merlin seemed unable to destroy the blackness that still swirled, if now a little more frantically, above them. Some sort of stalemate seemed to have been reached, and it wasn't enough. Arthur looked at Merlin again, the shell of his friend as it now was with the shield back in place. A change seemed to be occurring. The people behind seemed to sense it as well, for they began to stiffen and their faces were taut with concentration. Something was happening, of that Arthur was sure, but he couldn't begin to guess what it was. All around the air seemed to hum with…magic, he realised with shock. He could sense it. How much power was Merlin wielding, that even Arthur could feel it in the air?

Suddenly several things happened at once. Collectively the people who had been aiding Merlin gave a gasp and staggered back, like people who had been caught in some sort of trap and had just managed to pull themselves free. At that second, the tendrils of light that had connected them to Merlin shot forward to join the shield. Merlin's body took several steps forward, his arms came round in front of him as if commanding the shield. And then…light.

Arthur closed his eyes at the sudden intense burst that issued from the shield. It was so bright that even with his eyes closed and his arms thrown up to shield his face, Arthur still felt the light burning into his eyes. A shudder echoed in the air all around him. What was happening? Ignoring the pain, Arthur opened his eyes and tried to see what was going on.

Above them, the light was racing forwards, still a shield, but now spreading out in every direction, making the sky a brilliant white. And at every place where it hit the darkness it rushed through it, dispersing it into the air, devouring it, erasing it, dissolving it. Every point of impact between light and dark seemed to send ripples shimmering through the air. It was those that were causing the world to shake and shudder.

Arthur forced himself to keep his eyes open. He felt the despair that had so heavily weighed upon him begin to disappear as the light raced through the sky, obliterating the darkness until, at last, with one final intense blast, the light pulled back on it's self, sucking itself towards a point on Merlin's chest and then vanishing completely.

For a few seconds, Arthur could see nothing except for the imprint of the light's glare on his eyes, but slowly his sight adjusted and he found himself on the castle battlements, on a cool autumn night. The sky above him was dotted with stars. The people that had been there moments ago were disappearing back into the castle, the knights were stood with their eyes still shielded and Gaius was kneeling on the ground, his head bowed…

'Merlin!' The words were torn from Arthur's throat the moment he saw the man lying motionless on the floor. At some point in the last few minutes, Arthur must have moved away from Merlin and the intense light, because it took several panicked strides for him to reach the man's side and fall heavily to his knees.

He looked pale, too pale, even for Merlin.

'Gaius?' he asked, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. He was aware that the knights were moving closer, but he didn't acknowledge them. He watched as the old physician reached down and pressed gently on Merlin's throat.

It seemed like hours before the man lifted his head and gave a small nod of reassurance. Arthur let out a breath of relief.

'Merlin,' Arthur tried, touching the man's shoulder and shaking it gently.

'Sire,' Gaius began. 'He is very weak. Maybe too weak too…' The man tailed off and Arthur saw the deep sadness in the man's eyes.

'Merlin,' he tried again.

'Sire, he won't answer.'

'He'll answer me,' Arthur told Gaius, a harsh edge coming into his tone before he could stop it. 'Merlin. I am ordering you to open your eyes and look at me.' He said it firmly, as he would have done before when Merlin was doing something that was irritating him. Several more seconds past, but still Arthur waited. Something told him that he had to wait, that he had to make sure that Merlin answered. Because if he didn't, Arthur had a terrible feeling that Merlin would never answer anyone ever again.

'Sire. Perhaps-' one of the knights began, but Arthur cut him off.

'Wait.'

And so they did, for seconds or minutes or hours, Arthur didn't know. Somebody draped a cloak over the Merlin's body, another rubbed his arms. And still Arthur waited. He was used to waiting for Merlin; he had never done anything on time or with any haste. Up until now of course, when he had thrown himself between Arthur and the blackness that would have killed him.

Slowly, Arthur moved closer, and the others seemed to take that as a signal for them to move back. With the semi-privacy that afforded him, Arthur found his hand creeping up to rest on Merlin's shoulder, felt himself lean down where he knelt to speak to Merlin once again, out of earshot of the others.

'Merlin,' he began. 'Thank you for saving my life. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you.' He took a deep breath. 'I know now that I was wrong. Please wake up my friend.'

He lifted his head to stare at Merlin's face and slowly, so slowly that Arthur feared he was imagining it, Merlin's blue eyes began to open. Arthur felt a smile creep onto his face as Merlin blinked several times and then focussed on his face.

'I forgive you…my friend,' he whispered.

* * *

><p>At his desk, Arthur put the quill down. His hand ached and his eyes were sore from staring at the parchment for so long. He stared at the words, the confessions that he had etched into the page. Merlin's final words echoed around his head. Reaching up, he rubbed his face. He was not surprised to find his cheeks slick with tears.<p>

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	22. Chapter 22

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for the reviews! They're so encouraging to read and I'm glad people are enjoying the story. Please let me know what you think of this chapter as well!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

Arthur didn't know how long he sat at his desk staring at the completed account of that terrible night. He forced himself to read through it once more, just to confirm to himself that if it came to it and he lost his memories, those words would be enough to assure Merlin's safety. He thought that they would. It was the most truthful and honest document that Arthur had ever produced.

Although the scroll held the main event that had happened on Merlin's return, it didn't retell the whole story. The following weeks had been almost as harrowing as the few minutes he had spent on the rooftop. Merlin did not recover quickly or easily. In fact, his whispered words to Arthur were the only ones he uttered for well over a fortnight. Gaius had been at a loss as to what to do for him. Arthur remembered the old physician trying to explain it to him in a way that wouldn't alarm him. Arthur had kept his replies even and his face neutral as Gaius explained his suspicions, but inwardly he had been reeling. He had to fight age old prejudices and his own certainties in order to view Merlin as something different to the countless evil sorcerers that he had come into contact with throughout his life.

Gaius' guesses were that somehow Merlin's non-existent recovery was due to a magical ailment and not a physical one. Arthur could understand how the conclusion had been reached. While Merlin appeared to be completely healthy, terrible tremors would rack his body regularly, similar to the ones that Arthur had witnessed on the roof. Nothing Gaius did seemed to be able to stop them and he could not explain them.

'Gaius,' Arthur had begun hesitantly one morning, two weeks after the events on the battlements. The old man looked at him, tired and aged. 'Could Merlin…I mean…' he sighed and tried to find the words. 'You knew about Merlin, didn't you?' he tried. Up until now, the topic had not been breached. Even after Merlin's disappearance Arthur had given Gaius the benefit of the doubt. He had told himself that if Merlin could lie to his King, then he could lie to Gaius, but deep down Arthur knew that he couldn't face the possibility that his old friend had known about Merlin's magic all along.

'I think you already know the answer, Sire,' Gaius replied evenly.

'Did he…could he…?' He stood up, getting frustrated by his lack of eloquence. 'Is he as powerful as we saw on the roof? Is he really that strong?'

'He is powerful, Sire,' Gaius answered after a moment. 'Merlin is not someone who just dabbles in magic and can cast a few enchantments. One day he will rival and surpass the likes of Morgause, Nimueh…Morgana. He may do already.'

Arthur fought against the accusations, anger and fear that bubbled up in him. He had already made up his mind that Merlin was good and was loyal to him; it was just taking time for that knowledge to cement itself.

'So you knew he could do this? You weren't surprised?'

'Quite the opposite, actually,' Gaius began heavily.

'What do you mean?'

'Merlin is powerful, yes, but not to the extent that we saw when he fought the darkness. He could not have done that six months ago.'

'What are you saying?'

'I believe that Merlin somehow managed to increase his magical potential, but I'm not sure his body or his mind were ready for it.'

'Why would he…?' he began, but realisation came quickly. 'He knew he would need more power to defeat the dark magic.' The words came out quietly, guiltily.

'I don't know if that is what happened, but it would explain why he is not recovering. His body can not cope with these new levels of magical power.' As if to emphasise Gaius' point, Merlin suddenly trembled violently. Arthur saw the strain then; the way his body was fighting against pain and pressure.

It had been another few days before Merlin showed any signs of waking up and when he finally did, he was wracked with blinding headaches and terrible seizures. He had been unable to use his magic for several more weeks; any attempt to do so sent his body into convulsions.

As disconcerting as that was for Merlin, it actually made Arthur's transition from hater-of-magic to friend-of–the-most-powerful-sorcerer-of-the-age far more manageable. He took the time to rewrite and readdress Camelot's laws against magic. He actively involved Merlin in the process, asking for his opinion and getting him to explain things, without ever having to witness his friend's use of magic. It had made it easier for him to accept the truth and embrace it.

Arthur shook his head as he remembered those weeks. No, he didn't need to include those in his memories. It was the rooftop that had changed everything. Anything that happened after that was purely an inevitability.

He rolled the scroll up and settled it in a pocket on the inside of his jacket. If that didn't work, then nothing would. It was all he needed to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had Merlin's unwavering loyalty for good.

A knock at the door drew him from his thoughts.

'Come in.'

The door opened and an incredibly nervous looking guard appeared at the door.

'What is it?'

'Sire, the boy being held in the dungeons has escaped.'

Arthur felt his eyes narrow in anger. He may have Merlin's unwavering loyalty, but having his unquestioning obedience was something else entirely.

'I know where he is,' he all but growled, before storming his way out of his chambers.

* * *

><p>'So you decided to leave the dungeons after all then?' Merlin grinned as he saw Arthur running towards him.<p>

'I thought you said I was invisible?' he scowled, instead of answering the question. Was Merlin always so…happy? Surely he didn't have to grin and smile at everything, especially when it came to defying a direct order from the King.

'Not to me. Come on, we have to go.' He indicated his horse. She was saddled and standing patiently in the courtyard. There were bags and supplies loaded onto her side. Arthur looked at her dubiously; she hardly looked like a horse that was built for stamina, but Merlin made no comment on Arthur's reluctance and so he trudged forward and pulled himself into the saddle.

Climbing up behind him, Merlin grabbed the reigns and clicked her into a gentle trot, but he didn't seem to be heading out of the courtyard.

'Where are you going? I thought we were leaving the city.'

'We are. I'm just waiting for our bodyguard.' Arthur was about to comment on the fact that he didn't think either of them needed a bodyguard before he remembered that Merlin was technically ill and liable to faint at any moment. Perhaps a bodyguard –or chaperone- would be a good thing; Arthur doubted he could haul the sorcerer back to Camelot if he collapsed, even if he was thin and scrawny. Just like young Merlin. The thought slipped across Arthur's mind before he could stop it.

'Now,' Merlin was saying, 'I know you like the sound of your own voice…' Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but worried that speaking would only prove Merlin's point, '…but the spell only makes you invisible; it won't stop anyone from hearing you and I don't want to have to explain why there's a voice coming from nowhere.'

'Fine,' Arthur muttered.

'Good. I have to say, you're much more agreeable than Arthur, King Arthur that is. Now you are anyway. Up until now I've actually preferred old you, but currently you've got the edge,' Merlin mused, half to himself, half to Arthur. Arthur rolled his eyes. Did he always go on about such unimportant things? 'Ah,' he continued, there's Elyan. Let's go.'

'Won't the King just follow you wherever you're going?' Arthur asked. Surely the guards would be on their way to the King now. He was surprised the warning bell hadn't sounded, but perhaps they didn't want to alarm Camelot's citizens over an escaped child.

'I thought I told you you had to be quiet.'

'No-one's even close to us,' Arthur replied irritably.

'Well there's no harm practising,' Merlin whispered. 'If you must know, I've convinced the horses that they don't want to ride anywhere today. Between us we've got the last two moving horses in the city.'

Arthur was going to make some comment on how stupid that plan was -surely the spell wouldn't last once Merlin was further away and even so, there were plenty of people with horses in the city- but they had reached the other knight and were now heading towards the gate at a canter. Arthur settled himself down for what he assumed would be a short ride before the guards caught up with them and threw him back into the dungeons. The King would probably throw Merlin in as well after this.

But as the minutes wore on and Camelot disappeared behind them to be replaced by thick, fresh foliage and the dull thud of hooves on soft dirt, Arthur began to believe that Merlin genuinely had managed to convince the horses not to move anywhere.

How could he be allowed to do all of these things? Surely the King was worried that Merlin would take over; he had too much power in Arthur's opinion. It wouldn't be so bad if he could be trusted to follow orders and obey the King's every word, but Merlin didn't seem to do that at all. He disobeyed orders and he challenged the King's decisions. On top of that, he didn't seem to treat his leader with anything like the respect that he should. How could the King allow Merlin to have so much sway over him and over Camelot?

Arthur definitely wasn't convinced that he trusted the man who was currently sat behind him on the horse, leading him somewhere in the woods having just broken him out of prison. But in the end it still came down to the one fact that Arthur just couldn't ignore. Merlin was a sorcerer. He shook the thought away. If he dwelt on it too long he would forget all that he had learnt so far about magic and about Merlin and about the part it currently played in Camelot.

The ride was only a couple of hours, but by the end of it Arthur felt tired. He didn't think that not talking would be such hard work, but he was finding it to be incredibly difficult. He wanted to ask where they were going, what they were going to do once they got there, how Merlin was going to use him to help speed up the process of casting spells. Arthur shuddered. Maybe he didn't want to know about all of those things. But regardless, he was still finding the current banishment on talking difficult. So much so, that when they finally arrived in the all-to-familiar clearing, Arthur couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Instantly Elyan stopped and looked over at Merlin suspiciously.

'Did you hear that?' he asked Merlin.

'Hear what?' Merlin shrugged and Arthur felt a prod in his back, which he was assumed Merlin's way of telling him he wasn't impressed. 'No,' he continued. 'I didn't hear anything, not a thing. Nothing at all.'

Arthur rolled his eyes. How could Merlin ever have lied about anything, let alone being a sorcerer? The King must really have been stupid to miss that. Arthur was smiling smugly at the thought until the implication of his words on his own intelligence became clearer. He changed his mind: Merlin was an excellent liar.

'Merlin,' Elyan carried on. 'Why do I have the feeling you're doing something wrong?'

Now it was Merlin's time to sigh. He muttered a few words and although Arthur felt no change, he watched Elyan's register confusion, then shock and then resignation. He was no longer invisible.

'Isn't he supposed to be in the dungeons?'

'I thought he could do with some fresh air.'

'Merlin, Arthur will not be happy.'

'Well he'll be less happy if I take ages trying to work out Morgana's spells because I didn't have the Prince here with me.'

'I should take him back.'

'Please Elyan. I need him here.'

'Merlin.'

'Think about it,' Merlin continued. 'When has Arthur ever been right about magical issues?'

'That's not the point,' Elyan muttered, but he seemed to be loosing his conviction.

'If you want I can enchant you and then you'll be innocent of all charges when Arthur arrives,' Merlin suggested. The grin on his face proved that the comment was said in jest, but Arthur felt a cold chill rip through him at the words.

'No!' he said, much more forcefully than he had intended to. The two men looked at him with frowns on their faces. 'I mean…I don't think you should do that.'

'Of course I'm not going to do that,' Merlin replied.

'Well then why say it?' Arthur huffed, dismounting from the horse and heading across the clearing.

'Do you really think Arthur will mind me taking an argumentative, angry Prince off his hands for a few hours?' Merlin asked Elyan in a matter-of-fact tone. Arthur scowled at the words and carried on walking.

* * *

><p>Arthur was bored. Very, very bored. He didn't know how long they had been in the clearing now, but judging from the way the sun was sinking to kiss the horizon it had to be several hours. And there was nothing to do. Not a single thing. He had spent the majority of the time wandering around the edges of the clearing, swinging stray branches that he had found against the thick trunks, wishing he knew what had happened to his training sword, and trying desperately to ignore the fact that Merlin was casting spell after spell.<p>

Arthur could cope with being in the clearing for hours; he could cope with being bored, but he couldn't cope with the revelation that powerful magic was being carried out in very close proximity to him. Every time he forgot that he was supposed to be avoiding looking at Merlin, Arthur would catch sight of the man with his arms outstretched and his eyes glowing gold while his lips muttered words that didn't make any sense. He wasn't sure what Merlin was doing. Sometimes he crouched on the ground to cast spells, at other times his focus was on the pendant, and at other times he just seemed to be staring into the sky, but wherever he was, the use of magic was evident and Arthur was finding it immensely hard to remember the fact that Merlin had treated him nicely and was good and was somebody that the King believed in.

It was hard. So hard. He was torn between wanting to find out more and wanting to give into his fear and just steal a horse and ride back to Camelot so he could be put back safely into the dungeons. Only the fact that he was stubborn and determined to act like a prince kept him from doing the latter. He would just have to trust that Merlin wouldn't hurt him.

During the first few hours, Arthur had tried to pass the time by talking to the knight that had come with them: Elyan. Merlin had, at that moment, decided to take a break from his spell casting and so came and joined them.

'What family are you from?' Arthur had asked the knight. He didn't recognise the man at all; there weren't any children from his time that looked like Elyan.

'Oh, he's related to royalty,' Merlin assured Arthur, but there was something so serious in his voice that Arthur felt a little suspicious.

'Are you really?' Arthur asked Elyan.

'I suppose I am.'

'His sister's married to a King.'

'Which King?' Arthur pressed.

'Arthur,' Merlin grinned. 'Let me introduce you to your brother-in-law.'

The amusement on the faces of the two men riled Arthur somewhat. 'You're Guinevere's brother?'

'Yes.'

'So you're not of noble blood either?'

'No,' Elyan confirmed.

'Is that a problem?' Merlin asked him, more gently now, but still with some amusement on his face.'

'No,' he snapped. 'I just think it's strange.' He had picked up his stick again at that point and headed back towards the edge of the clearing, only just managing to convince himself not to whack Merlin with it.

That had been hours ago now, though, and Arthur had gotten over the shock that not only would he be marrying commoners in his future, he would also be knighting them. He didn't like thinking about his future, however, not when everything in it seemed so back to front, and so he was left to mull over Merlin's use of magic again.

As the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, Arthur noticed Merlin heading his way. Instantly he felt fear flood him and his heart began to hammer in his chest, like the pounding of horses hooves on baked earth.

'I need your help,' the man said as he approached. Arthur nodded and swallowed; this was the reason that he was here. He watched Merlin warily as the sorcerer came and crouched down in front of him. 'I've found out what spells Morgana used to take magical power from the earth and I know how she used the pendant. I've put my own spells in place based on hers, so that when the time comes to send you back, I'll be able to do it.' He was talking slowly and calmly and with much more seriousness than Arthur had come to expect from him. It made him nervous. 'But when Morgana pulled you through, she left magical traces on you, which, if I can find them, will help me to send you and Merlin back to exactly the right time and place so that you'll be safe. To find them I need to use magic on you.'

Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but the words caught in his throat. He felt weak and dizzy all of a sudden. Use magic on him? Put a spell on him? The very idea made him tremble. He tried to reply again, but his throat felt like it had closed up. He felt Merlin's hand gently squeeze his shoulder and Arthur realised how rigidly he was holding himself. His arms were like stone, fixed to his side and his back was so straight that it was beginning to ache. He tried to relax, but the deep breaths he intended to take turned into short sharp ones which he was unable to control.

'Arthur.' He could hear Merlin's voice, gentle and reassuring, but he was unable to reply. 'Arthur.' Arthur tried to slow his breathing. He was not being brave. He was being a coward, acting like a baby. He managed to fix his eyes onto Merlin's and take a deeper breath. 'Listen to me.' Arthur nodded to show that he was listening. 'I know that magic is something that you have been taught to fear and hate, and I know that it's difficult to watch me using it. You've been strong so far and I just need you to push yourself a little further. I know you can do it because I've seen Arthur do it over and over again.'

'I'm not him,' Arthur whispered, hating how small and pathetic his voice felt.

'Yes you are. And he's you. Which means that if he could get past his fear of magic then so can you.' Arthur tried to listen to the words, but he felt his head shaking.

'It's evil,' he managed to breathe out, but it took all his effort to do so.

'No, it's not,' Merlin assured him, the same calm tone; the same gentleness. 'It can be used for evil, but not by me. I will never use my magic for evil, and I will never ever hurt you. Trust me; I've given nearly everything I have to protect Arthur Pendragon, and I always will do. And you're him. You have nothing to be afraid about. You're the Prince of Camelot and I need you to do this for your kingdom.'

The words seemed to stir something in Arthur that he hadn't felt for a long time. A sense of connection to his people, to the life that he was living, to the future that he was aiming for. Merlin was right. If he didn't do this then it wouldn't just be him who suffered. If he didn't get back to the right place and time, then the entire future of Camelot was in jeopardy. He looked at Merlin once again and slowly nodded. The smile that crossed Merlin's face helped to alleviate some more of the fear that was still firing through Arthur; the sorcerer was proud of him, it was so easy to see. Arthur felt a smile begin to creep onto his own face, but smothered it as best he could.

'Good,' Merlin carried on, standing back up. Elyan, who had stayed a long way back while they talked, now came over to meet them.

'We need to go before too long, Merlin.'

'I know. We will do. I just need to finish this last part of the spell.'

He titled his head, indicating to Arthur that he should follow, which he did with as much bravery as he could muster. Merlin led him across the clearing to the place where he and young Merlin had been suspended up in the air in the sphere.

'I just need you to stand here for a few minutes.'

'What will it feel like?' he asked, forcing his voice to sound strong and loud. He lifted his head and tried to make it look like he wasn't desperately waiting for Merlin's reply.

'You won't feel anything most of the time, but you might feel a sort of tingle or energy at other times. Don't worry; it won't hurt.'

'I'm not worried,' Arthur snapped back. He thought he saw Merlin roll his eyes, but couldn't be sure as the man turned and walked a few paces away as he did so. Seconds later he faced Arthur once again and extended his hand towards him. Arthur took a deep breath and tried to focus on keeping his breathing calm and even. He stared straight ahead, not wanting to betray his anxiety, but as soon as Merlin started speaking he couldn't help but close his eyes. He shut them tight, not wanting to see anything of what was happening.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, but suddenly he was aware of a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes in surprise; he hadn't heard anyone approaching. Merlin was giving him another smile.

'That's it?' he asked.

'All done,' Merlin nodded. 'You've helped me to link the spell to the correct time, place and person. Along with the pendant and the magic that's left in the ground, I can send you back.'

'Right now?' he asked, his voice loud with hope.

'No,' Merlin replied quietly, his tone becoming more sombre. 'This won't work unless both of you get sent back. I don't think I'll even be able to replicate the spell in Merlin isn't here.'

'Oh.' He bowed his head slightly, not liking the quiet tone that had entered Merlin's voice. 'Are we going back now then?'

'I think so. I'll try and keep you out of the dungeons,' Merlin murmured.

'I don't think you'll be able to,' Arthur replied as he looked towards the edge of the clearing.

'You never know. Arthur might not be that angry.'

'I wouldn't be so sure,' he replied, pointing behind Merlin. The sorcerer turned and Arthur saw him flinch. Storming out from the edge of the clearing was the King.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	23. Chapter 23

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for all the reviews! They're lovely to read! Hope you like this chapter. We are heading towards the end, but I reckon there's quite a few chapters left yet. I would give you a rough estimate, but at the rate the story keeps on diverting from my original plan, it would be a complete stab in the dark. Anyway, I'll stop rambling. Enjoy this chapter and please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

Arthur was furious. No, furious was far too tame. He was enraged. Yes, Merlin probably was right about needing the Prince to help him. Yes, everything would probably go quicker now that the boy had been taken to the clearing as well. But, no, it was not alright that Merlin continued to disobey his orders. He was the King.

His anger might have been somewhat restrained had he been able to ride to the clearing, but of course, Merlin had managed to stitch him up on that one as well. Arthur had tried every single horse in the stables, but none of them would move. He had tried letting his knights go to the clearing to fetch Merlin and the Prince back, but the same happened to them. If the horses were being used to go after Merlin, then they simply refused to move. Several had been sent off with search parties without any problem, but none of them would allow themselves to be ridden to the clearing.

So now, after hours of walking on his own because he couldn't spare the soldiers to come with him and because it was faster when it was just him, Arthur had finally reached the clearing to find Merlin with a hand resting on the Prince's shoulder, looking for all the world like he was proud of the boy. He saw the Prince point towards him and watched Merlin turn. The warlock's face paled slightly and Arthur didn't bother to dampen the sense of power he felt at the reaction. Merlin straightened up and took several hesitant steps towards Arthur. Some way across the clearing, Elyan began making his way over as well, but Arthur didn't pay him any attention.

'Arthur,' Merlin began in a placating tone.

'Tell me Merlin,' he replied, quickly drawing level with him in his fury, 'what the hell is the point in me being King if all you do is disobey my direct orders?' He clenched his fist, quite prepared to punch Merlin in the face, but he couldn't bring himself to do it; Merlin would crumple like a leaf. So instead he pushed him hard, making Merlin stagger back. Surprise registered across Merlin's face. Arthur understood it perfectly. Yes, Arthur had beaten him black and blue in training or in play fights or just generally when they were messing around, but never with any seriousness.

'Arthur,' Merlin tried again, but he didn't seem to know where he was going with the sentence.

'You may be the Court sorcerer, Merlin. You may be a member of the royal court, one of my advisors and probably the third most powerful person in the Kingdom after Guinevere and I, but you are not in charge. You have no excuse to go directly against my wishes!'

'I'm trying to put everything right,' Merlin argued. 'I needed the Prince's help.'

'No you didn't. You told me yourself that it would just make it go quicker. You didn't need him; you could have done it without him!' He took several breaths, but they did little to calm him. The memories of the rooftop were still fresh in his mind and he was angry with himself for how he was reacting now, but he couldn't seem to stop.

'I'm sorry,' Merlin tried and Arthur could tell that he meant it. He hadn't expected such an extreme reaction. And why would he? In the past, Arthur had barely made a fuss when Merlin had disobeyed him.

''Sorry?' That's great Merlin. And will you be just as sorry the next time you decide to go against my orders, or the time after that. I'll tell you what, from now on you can make all the decisions and I'll just go along with what you say.' He turned away from Merlin, quite prepared to just head back into the forest.

'It _would_ make things easier,' Merlin murmured. Arthur clenched his fists at his side and swung back round. This time Merlin did back up several steps, but Arthur still couldn't hit him; it would be like kicking a puppy.

'Just tell me:' he said instead, 'why can't you do as I say, like everybody else?'

Merlin sighed and shook his head. That only irritated Arthur further.

'You already know why. I'm not just everybody else. I'm not your court sorcerer or your advisor or anything like that, not really. They're just positions I happen to hold.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'I'm your friend, Arthur, which means I don't always do what you ask; I do what I think's best for you, whether you like it or not.'

'All I asked was for you to leave him in the dungeons,' Arthur said quietly.

'You only said that because you're angry with him.'

'Because I don't trust him.' Behind Merlin, the Prince shifted uncomfortably, but the expression on his face wasn't one of annoyance, it was one of guilt. Arthur ignored it; it didn't mean anything.

'But you're wrong about that,' Merlin pressed.

'Merlin,' Arthur hissed.

'You are,' Merlin replied more firmly. 'Think about it; think about yourself. What do you do when you make a mistake? What do you do when you realise you're wrong?'

Arthur didn't answer; he didn't like where the conversation was heading. Merlin had no such reservations; he continued without even waiting for an answer.

'You learn from them, you make up for them, you try to understand why you were wrong. That's what he's doing,' Merlin told him, pointing at the boy who was still half hidden behind him. 'He has stayed with me the entire afternoon, watching me use magic. He's even let me use it on him. You remember how hard you found that.'

Arthur did remember, all too clearly. He remembered the first time that Merlin had used magic on him –a healing spell- with his full knowledge. He had received a nasty injury after an ill conceived assassination attempt during a speech about bringing magic back to the Kingdom. The new decrees had caused a volatile and mixed response in the citizens of Camelot. Some hated magic as much as Arthur's father had.

The knife had been thrown at him by a man who was then killed by one of the Knights of the Round Table. Merlin had been at his side instantly, apologising for not been more alert. It wasn't long after he had begun to recover from the battle with the dark magic and so his reactions weren't anywhere near as sharp as they now were and had been before. Even so, Merlin had managed to pull Arthur mostly out of the way, but not enough to stop the knife from embedding deeply into his shoulder. Arthur had known at the time that, while the knife had missed his heart, it had most definitely caught a major blood vessel. There was blood everywhere.

'I need to heal it Arthur,' Merlin told him, while some of the other knights kept a lookout for further attacks.

'No,' Arthur argued, terror racing through him at the thought, but Merlin had already pulled back his chainmail and shirt, which had been as effective against the knife as leaves. The weapon must have been an incredibly well crafted one, to make such easy work of all his protection. 'Merlin, no, please,' Arthur had hissed in pain as Merlin prepared to pull the knife out. He wrapped his fingers weakly around Merlin's thin wrist.

'Arthur,' he said quietly, understanding etched into every feature of his face. 'I know that you're trying to view magic in a positive light and I know that it's more difficult than you could ever have imagined, but I can't give you any more time to come to terms with it.'

'Just get Gaius,' he had whispered, trying one last thing to avoid having to completely hand himself over to the potential of magic being used to do good.

'There isn't time. If I don't do this, you're going to bleed to death.'

'Merlin.'

'Come on Arthur, it's me. I'm not going to hurt you.'

He hadn't nodded exactly, but he hadn't said anything else to argue. Instead, all Arthur had done was keep his eyes locked on Merlin's and keep his fingers curled tightly around the man's arm. Merlin had smiled at him and then turned his attention to the wound. Quickly he had pulled the knife out, causing Arthur to cry out in agony, but still he didn't release Merlin's arm.

Instantly, Merlin began using his magic. Arthur tried to keep his eyes open, but when Merlin's eyes began to glow, he had to close his own. He tried not to think about what was happening, but as the pain began to lessen in his arm and he felt his muscles relax, he couldn't help but open his eyes. Merlin looked about ready to keel over himself and only then did Arthur remember the effect that using magic had on Merlin at the moment. He looked weak and he trembled violently, but there was a satisfied smile on his face.

'All done,' he said in shaky voice. Arthur looked blankly at him for several seconds. That was it? He looked at his shoulder. The skin was clear, unmarred by any wounds. Only the blood that had already seeped out remained on his arm and on the floor.

'Thank you,' Arthur whispered.

'No problem. What else is a resident sorcerer for?' Merlin had grinned.

Arthur looked over at the Prince. Had the boy really allowed Merlin to use magic on him? That would have taken incredible courage and would have been at least partial proof of the boy's changed perspective. But whether that convinced Arthur or not, the next thing the boy did shocked him into believing that Merlin might actually be right about the change.

Hesitantly at first, evidently unsure of whether the King would make another cutting verbal attack, the boy crept out from behind Merlin and walked over until he was in front of Arthur. Then, without once raising his eyes to meet the King's, he sank down onto his knees and bowed his head. The humility in his stature, in the tears dripping to the floor and in the way the boy uttered his next words almost made Arthur stagger back in shock.

'I'm sorry for everything I've done. For hurting Merlin, for making you feel ashamed of me and for letting you down. Please forgive me.'

And there he was, Arthur realised; the image of the King that he wanted to be himself, just a glimpse of it. One who was willing to throw off his pride and admit when he was wrong. Arthur could do it sometimes, more often now than he had done in the past, but never before had he done it with such…sincerity as the boy that currently knelt before him.

He glanced up at Merlin, who wasn't registering any surprise at the move. Instead, he was looking at Arthur, full of hope that maybe, just maybe, Arthur would see what he did. And when it came to Arthur Pendragon, Merlin was near enough the main authority on understanding him. Guinevere understood him as well, of course, but she and Merlin understood different aspects of their King and friend.

How many times had Merlin forgiven him and given him another chance even after he had acted like an idiot or made the wrong decision? Arthur realised something there and then: if Merlin had given the Prince another chance after all that he had done, then there was no reason that Arthur shouldn't do the same.

Reluctantly, mostly because Merlin was watching him, probably with a grin on his face, Arthur mirrored his younger self's position and knelt on the ground in front of him. He kept his voice low, but he needn't have. Merlin and Elyan moved back several paces, giving them some privacy.

He frowned, trying to think of exactly what he should say, but in the end he just went with the truth.

'It isn't you that I need to forgive,' he said quietly. The Prince looked up at him, confused and unsure.

'But what I did…'

'What we did,' Arthur murmured, allowing the terrible truth to rise to the surface once again. He had suppressed it since he saw the identical cut to his own on the Prince's elbow, but now it seemed that he had to face the guilt that was plaguing him over Morgana's capture of Merlin's younger self. The same guilt that was evidently as deep rooted in the Prince. Slowly, Arthur rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and chainmail and showed the Prince the scar that was there. The boy's eyes widened as he saw the mark and he quickly rolled up his own sleeve and held it up next to the King's arm.

'I couldn't forgive you,' Arthur continued, 'because I couldn't forgive myself.'

'Have you managed to now?' he asked hopefully.

'Not yet, but Merlin has, and it's him that we hurt,' Arthur replied, giving the Prince a small smile.

'I don't think he's forgiven me,' the Prince whispered.

'It's Merlin,' Arthur told him. 'If he hadn't before then he has now.'

'How do you know?'

'Because you accepted his magic by letting him use it on you.'

'Why would that make him forgive me?'

'Because…' Arthur felt his face grow warm as he considered what he was about to say. He was once again incredibly thankful that Merlin was far enough away not to hear. 'Because…' he tried again, '…when you did that you reminded him of me and he's forgiven me for a lot of things over the years.'

The boy looked up at him, his face serious and sad. Arthur felt his heart break as he saw the indecision on his own young face. Sometimes he still felt like a little boy with no clue as to what to do or what to say.

'I don't know how to make it up to him,' the boy admitted. 'To Merlin from my time. I don't know how to make it right. How do I do it?'

'You just…' Arthur shrugged and gave a small smile. 'You just say sorry and try and do things better in the future.'

'I want to.'

'Then we both have to make things up to Merlin now, to both of them.'

As the boy nodded and gave a small, but genuine smile, Arthur felt the rest of the world coming back into focus. He was not one to lay his heart out to anyone, even himself, but it seemed to be what the Prince needed to hear. Some of the anxiety that had plagued the boy in Arthur's presence for the past day seemed to disappear, although the guilt still remained. Now, however, there was more determination in his eyes; a fire that Arthur recognised. He helped the boy to his feet and Merlin quickly reappeared. He made no cheeky remarks, didn't give Arthur any knowing looks. He just carried on as if nothing had happened. At his side, Elyan stood awaiting orders.

'Everything's set up in the clearing,' Merlin explained to Arthur. 'All the spells and enchantments are ready and in place. All that's needed is for me to bring them to life with a simple spell. As long as I'm holding the pendant when I say it, the enchantment will work. I've written the spell and the instructions in case I forget.'

'So all that's left…?'

'Is to find Merlin. As soon as we get him back here, we can send them both back.' He looked up at Arthur. 'Are we any closer to finding him?'

'The search parties aren't all back yet. We won't know anything for sure until tomorrow.'

'It's not going to be soon enough.'

'We can't do anything else. Everybody that can be out searching is doing so.'

Merlin gave a sigh of frustration at the words and began to turn away, but then he froze and turned back to Arthur, a smile on his face.

'Not quite everybody.'

'What do you…?' But the question died on his lips as he saw Merlin look up to the sky and shout in a deep, resonating voice. Inwardly Arthur cringed; he knew exactly what that meant.

'Merlin,' he said through gritted teeth. Merlin turned to look at him and Arthur nodded towards the Prince who seemed a little unsettled by the words. Merlin's expression turned sheepish and apologetic as he realised what Arthur was getting at: perhaps the Prince could have done with a little warning, but it was too late now. Arthur could already hear the beat of wings. Still he had to try.

'Arthur,' he said, turning to the Prince quickly. 'There's nothing to be afraid of. He's a friend of Merlin's.'

'Who is…?' But his eyes went wide and his skin paled as a shadow passed across them. The boy started mumbling somewhat incoherently and tried to back up and run, but Arthur held him steadily.

'He won't hurt you,' Arthur reassured him, but he doubted it did any good. The boy was trembling. Elyan appeared beside them and put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. Arthur gave him a grateful nod and then went to stand next to Merlin.

'What news young warlock and young King?' Kilgharrah asked as he landed on the ground, shaking the earth.

'Morgana has me…little me,' Merlin explained, 'and we don't know where she's taken him. Somehow she's managing to break through the wards that are on him. They're affecting me too.'

'If the witch has Merlin then you are all in danger.'

'We know,' Merlin nodded. 'That's why we need your help. Can you find her or…' he paused and Arthur looked at him. He was thinking, frowning, but suddenly he looked up triumphantly. 'You could call to Merlin, in his mind. Like you do with me.'

Arthur felt hope rise in him at the idea, but the dragon was already shaking his head.

'I would not be able to. My contact with you is made possible because I know where you are, and because you are now a Dragon Lord. I could not contact him. And as for finding Morgana; this time I have no inclination as to where she is.'

Arthur felt his last shred of hope evaporate into the evening air. He glanced over at Merlin, but rather than the defeat he expected to see, the sorcerer was staring at the dragon thoughtfully.'

'Merlin?' Arthur asked. Merlin didn't reply to him, but instead stepped forward.

'You said _you _couldn't contact him. Does that mean somebody else could?'

The dragon looked at him with something akin to amusement on his face and then bent his huge head down so that it was just in front of Merlin and Arthur. Merlin seemed to feel no alarm at this, but Arthur had to fight the urge to take a few steps back.

'I believe _you_ could do it,' he answered.

'How?' Merlin asked, shaking his head. 'It would be impossible for me to communicate with someone across such a great distance.'

'But, young warlock, this is a connection between you and another version of yourself. The connection between you is already there and the magic that resides in both of you will allow the link to form,' Kilgharrah explained.

'Well that's perfect,' Merlin spluttered, a grin on his face. 'I can forge the connection, find out where Merlin is and we can go and rescue him.' He looked over at Arthur, but Arthur couldn't bring himself to share Merlin's enthusiasm.

'Kilgharrah,' Arthur began, trying not to let on how uncomfortable the dragon made him feel. He had only spoken to him a handful of times and then he had just been adding to Merlin's comments, not addressing the creature directly. 'Surely a…link of that distance could be dangerous.'

'No, Arthur Pendragon; the distance is not the danger.'

'Then there is a danger?' he pressed.

'The chance of finding him outweighs any danger,' Merlin shrugged off, shaking his head at Arthur.

'If it kills you there won't be any chance of finding him or sending them both back,' he answered sharply.

'It's not going to kill me,' Merlin told him with an overly dramatic sigh. 'Right Kilgharrah?'

'The danger, Merlin, is by no means small,' the dragon replied.

Arthur gave Merlin a firm stare, daring the warlock to try continuing with the plan.

'I'll be fine.'

Arthur rolled his eyes; how could he ever have thought that Merlin would stop being a stubborn-headed fool.

'What are the dangers?' he asked instead, turning to Kilgharrah once again.

'A connection forged between the two of them may go further than a simple telepathic link.'

'What do you mean?' Arthur asked.

'There is a chance that in linking with his younger self, Merlin will also create a physical link. Whatever his younger self is suffering may be transferred along the connection to Merlin.'

'That couldn't happen,' Merlin argued, giving Arthur a wary look, evidently hoping to deflect the King from a rant. Arthur couldn't deny that he could feel one forming.

'You are the same person, Merlin,' Kilgharrah growled, seemingly unimpressed by Merlin's lack of belief in his theory. 'By creating a further link between your two selves, you risk taking on each other's characteristics. As you are the one who will be forming the link, you will be more susceptible to the transferral.

'I really don't-' Merlin tried, but Arthur had heard enough.

'You need to find another way,' he told his friend firmly.

'There isn't another way, Arthur. We're running out of time. You know the search parties won't find anything and before long we won't remember anything anyway. We don't have a choice.'

'More of the search parties will be back before long. We can at least give them another day or two. Who knows, they might find her. We can spare a bit of time.'

'No we can't.'

'Merlin.'

'Arthur, I'll be fine.'

'Yes, because 'fine' really describes how this mission has gone so far.' He stepped closer to Merlin and mustered as much authority as he could. 'I'm ordering you not to make the connection.'

'Please don't.'

'I'm your King, Merlin, and you will do as I say.'

'But-'

'I order you to do it,' came a small and somewhat less confident voice from beside them.

Arthur rounded on his younger self, who looked unsure of whether to be more afraid of Arthur or Kilgharrah. How dare he? After everything they had just talked about, this was how he tried to show Arthur that he really had changed; by attempting to override the King's order? He swallowed hard, looked apologetically at Arthur and then looked at Merlin again.

'I order you.'

'You do not have any authority here,' Arthur told him slowly, trying to keep his voice even. The boy swallowed again, a pained expression on his face. He didn't want to do this, Arthur could tell, but there was some determination and resignation in him that made him continue.

'I do have authority. I'm the Prince of Camelot and I am Arthur Pendragon.'

'You know-' Merlin began musingly. Arthur's head snapped round.

'Shut up, Merlin. Don't even think about it. Even if he is the Prince, I'm the King. If you want to try and pull rank in any way, remember that.'

'When you were Prince, I followed your orders above those of the King on more than one occasion,' Merlin pointed out.

'Merlin!' Arthur warned.

'And that was only ever because I believed your orders were right.'

'Merlin, we have just had a conversation about this, about you needing to do as I say.'

'I am doing as you say, just you from a long time ago.

'Stop,' Arthur told him.

'I've always been the servant of Arthur Pendragon. I still am,' he continued, but now his voice was getting heavier. There was a regret in it, which told Arthur that he had made up his mind.

'Don't,' Arthur said, and this time his tone was harsh: firm and full of authority. He closed the gap between them as he saw Merlin take a deep breath and straighten his shoulders; the, by now, familiar sign that he was about to use magic. Arthur's hand closed around his friend's shoulders just as he finished whispering the spell. His eyes glowed gold before clearing again. Arthur hoped that he had got it wrong, prayed that somehow it hadn't work. After all, Merlin hadn't even known the spell was possible; how could he come up with it so quickly?

But all of Arthur's hopes vanished as he watched the next few seconds unfold. His hand remained on Merlin's shoulder, and it was a good job it did because he was sure the man would have fallen without the steadying support. Arthur watched in horror as Merlin changed before his eyes. He grew sickeningly pale, even grey in colour. His skin seemed to dry out. Arthur watched as his lips dried and cracked, spotting with blood in a matter of seconds. His eyes grew dark and sunken, the bags under his eyes deepening until they were like bruises. As the moment drew out, Merlin's breaths became ragged and laboured. He seemed to shrink inside his clothes. Arthur felt his shoulder grow thinner and bonier and his body began to shake as if the very effort of holding his weight was excruciating. His forehead creased in pain.

For several seconds, Merlin's entire focus seemed to be on the surroundings. His expression was one of panic and confusion, but then he locked eyes with Arthur and there was such despair and pleading in them, that Arthur took a step back, only just remembering to retain his hold on Merlin's shoulder.

'Please, help me,' he whispered hoarsely. The sound of his voice sent a cold shudder through Arthur. His breath caught in his throat and terror paralysed him for several seconds. The voice was familiar, of that Arthur was sure, but it was not the voice of his friend that echoed around the clearing. No, the voice that had just spoken was that of a six year old Merlin, lost and alone.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	24. Chapter 24

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks, as always, for the reviews. It's lovely to read them and feel so encouraged. Hope you enjoy this chapter and please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

Merlin was curled up in the corner of a shielded rock face when it happened. He was still tied up, but even if he wanted to move now, it would have taken far too much effort. Morgana hadn't even bothered to taunt him in the last half a day. Instead she had focussed on using magic against him. She wasn't able to get to him through the protection that was still in place, but Merlin knew that whatever was shielding him from her power was beginning to weaken. He only had to think about his own rapidly deteriorating state to know that. There was no way that he should be this weak after such a short amount of time, which only left him with the conclusion that, while her magic was currently being kept at bay, it was affecting him somehow. How much longer would it be before she broke through the wards and killed him? He tried not to think about it, but there was little else to consider.

But just as he began to contemplate his own looming death for the hundredth time in the last hour, he felt the world pitch around him. He tried to cry out in alarm, but the sound barely made it past his throat. It felt like the world was moving. No, not that the world was moving, but that he was. Fast, incredibly fast. He tried to open his eyes, but the pressure that seemed to be encasing his body made him squeeze them tightly shut. There was a roaring in his ears, intense and piercing, but when he tried to focus on it, he realised that it wasn't sound at all. It was something deeper, something that reverberated through his head. What was happening?

He felt himself come to a sudden stop and the pressure that had been encasing him seemed to billow out in every direction, freezing him for a moment. When everything finally stopped, he was able to open his eyes. For several seconds he just looked round in panic. Where was he? Where was Morgana? Everything seemed familiar, but in a frightening way. Something bad had happened here.

And then he saw King Arthur. In that instant he felt every shred of hope that he had managed to retain knit themselves back together. They had found him!

'Please help me,' he whispered. He only just managed to utter the words.

'Merlin?' Arthur asked, confusion and shock on his face.

'Yes, please…' he tried to swallow to moisten his throat, but it was useless. Understanding his discomfort, Arthur reached for the water skin on his belt. Merlin tried to reach his hand to take it, but his arms just swung listlessly at his side. 'I can't…' he murmured in embarrassment, but Arthur just reached the water skin up to his lips and tipped the water into his cracked throat. The water felt like ice, cool and refreshing. For the first time in days, Merlin felt a smile crawl onto his face. He gulped down the water greedily, but his stomach began to roll uncomfortably and so he stopped. He looked back at Arthur in thanks, but the look on the King's face made him panic. The shock that was there -the sadness, the disbelief- made Merlin realise that something was wrong.

'What is it?' he asked, his voice marginally stronger, but suddenly he realised something that hadn't registered before. 'You've got smaller,' he frowned. And it was true. The King was exactly the same height as him. Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but instead he just shook his head. Merlin was going to ask something else, but he suddenly became aware of the fact that the floor was much further away than he remembered it being. With an increasing sense of panic and confusion, Merlin looked down at his body. He began to shake; the adrenaline rush that had initially given him strength was wearing off. He couldn't hold his own weight, because it wasn't his own weight anymore.

'Elyan,' he heard Arthur shout. The King stepped forward to steady him and another man, one of the knights, joined him, gently grasping Merlin's other shoulder and lowering him to the ground. Merlin couldn't help the whimpers that began to spill from his mouth.

'Merlin,' Elyan whispered. 'It's alright. It's alright.' But Merlin didn't believe him. What was going on? What was happening to him? He looked frantically around and saw another figure someway back; his hands were knotted in his hair as he looked on fearfully, not knowing what to do. The Prince. The Prince who had left him to Morgana. Merlin felt an anger rise up in him that he had never felt before. The Prince saw him looking and shook his head. His mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out and he took several steps backwards before tearing his way across what Merlin now realised was the clearing where they had first arrived in Camelot. Distracted by his thrashing and by their own confusion, neither the King nor Elyan noticed the retreating figure.

'Kilgharrah!' The King's voice caught Merlin's attention. Elyan was still next to him, still saying things that Merlin didn't believe, but the sound of the dragon's name being called made Merlin turn and look behind him. The creature was watching him with something that could almost be shock and that, more than anything, made Merlin worry. 'Kilgharrah,' Arthur repeated. 'What's happened? What's going on?'

'Merlin made the link. Their physical conditions have been transferred,' he replied. His voice was serene, but there was a hint of questioning in it.

'No,' Arthur argued. 'This is more than a physical connection. This is Merlin,' he said, pointing to where Merlin lay. 'Not our Merlin, that's young Merlin, six year old Merlin.'

'It appears their consciousnesses were transferred as well as their physical states.'

Merlin felt his blood run cold, or not his blood as it turned out; the blood currently running through him was that of his older counterpart. He wasn't even in his own body. He closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths to quell the panic.

'Where's our Merlin?' Arthur demanded.

'My guess is that he is with Morgana in his younger self's body.'

'How do we get him back?'

'No please, please,' Merlin heard himself whisper. Arthur turned round and looked at him, before crouching down at his side.

'Merlin,' he said, and it was the gentlest that Merlin had ever heard him speak.

'Please, your majesty,' he cried, 'don't make me go back to her, don't make me, don't make me.'

'We need Merlin to put this right. You can't do that, not yet.'

'But she'll kill me. She's starving me and her magic's back. I think she's nearly got through all the shields that were on me,' he replied, unable to keep the terror from his voice. He saw the King's eyes crease with a sort of pain. He took a deep breath and couldn't meet Merlin's gaze for a few moments.

'I'm sorry, Merlin.'

'Please, don't leave me with her again.'

'We are coming to find you,' Arthur told him more urgently. 'Tell me where she's keeping you.'

'I don't know. I don't recognise it,' he said desperately.

'Anything at all.'

'I don't know; she's tied me in some rocks. It's dark, there's rock all around. There's nothing else to see. I don't know where I am.' He tried to get up, tried to reach up his hands and grab Arthur's arms, but he was too weak. He couldn't do anything. Seeing this, Arthur bridged the gap for him and pulled him into a sitting position, moving round so that he was supporting Merlin's weight.

'Arthur,' came Kilgharrah's booming voice. 'Merlin will not keep the link connected for much longer. He is likely just working out what has happened and how to reverse it.'

'Please,' Merlin whispered as the implication of the words hit him.

'What can we do?' Arthur asked desperately.

'Any strength that this Merlin gains here will be transferred into his own body when the connection is severed.'

Merlin didn't understand, but Elyan suddenly leapt up and raced over to where the horses were tied on the edge of the clearing. He ran back with food and water skins in his hands. Merlin felt his eyes go wide as he saw it. Elyan handed it to Arthur who wasted no time in breaking the food up into smaller pieces and feeding them to Merlin, who barely chewed, just swallowed what he could.

'We are coming to get you,' Arthur assured him. 'You just need a little more strength.'

Once he had eaten a little food, they switched to giving him water. He drank as much as he could and even after his stomach began to protest, he forced a little more down. But then he became aware of the pressure once again. He looked at Arthur.

'Please find me,' he whispered and then the roaring in his ears began. He closed his eyes and was gone from the clearing.

Arthur saw the change in Merlin once again. His face became healthier, his body more sturdy and his eyes less sunken, but the shock of what had just occurred kept Arthur frozen in place, until movement from Merlin snapped him out of it. His friend, who was still leaning against him, turned his head and gave him a quizzical look.

'What are you doing?' he asked. Suddenly aware of the fact that he was holding a water skin to Merlin's lips and steadying him where he sat, Arthur leapt up, his face flushing. He tried to explain, but the memory of what Merlin had looked like, of the sound of his young voice pleading and desperate made him want to shut the memory out forever. They had to reach him soon.

'Never mind what I'm doing. What the hell was that?'

'Erm…yes. I think I may have made a mistake with the spell,' he replied sheepishly, climbing to his feet as well.

'Merlin, your younger self was just here, in your body, and he's dying. She's starving him and she's breaking through his wards with magic.'

'What? But when I was there, his body was fine. He was healthy.'

'No, Merlin, that was only because you're healthy,' Elyan replied, seeming to recognise that Arthur was struggling. 'What Arthur said is right. He hasn't got much time left.'

'The connection…' Arthur began, but trailed off when he realised his explanation would be somewhat lacking. Instead he asked Kilgharrah to explain. Merlin listened intently, his face paling as he realised the truth of what Arthur said.

'We need to find him,' Arthur said.

'But he didn't know where he was being held,' Elyan pointed out.

'That's no problem. I know where she's keeping him. I recognised it,' Merlin told them with a grin. 'We can find him, and Morgana wasn't there, so she won't even know the connection's been made.'

'Where are they?' Arthur pressed urgently.

'They're in the west lowlands, by the Esen River. She's hiding out in the caverns of the Esen Gorge. I could smell the lavender that grows in the area and I recognise the formations from a hunting trip years ago.'

'I don't remember a hunting trip to the Esen Gorge,' Arthur argued. 'In fact…' Arthur frowned. Hunting trips? He didn't remember any hunting trips. 'We don't go hunting.'

'Arthur, we always go hunting. You still drag me along now.'

'What?'

'It's your memories Arthur. They're going. We have to be quick.'

Arthur didn't question anything Merlin said. Ironically, he had almost forgotten about their memory loss, but now that it had been brought to the forefront again, he realised that there were more gaps. What were the names of his knights? He could only remember Elyan and he was sure that was because the man was right next to him. He shook his head. They had to be quick. He set to working out the route they needed to take, but his heart sank as he calculated the distances.

'That's two days travel, easily, and we'll have to go back to Camelot.'

'It's two days on horseback,' Merlin argued.

'What other form of transportation have we got, Merlin?' Arthur asked him in irritation. Merlin said nothing else, just grinned and backed up a couple of steps while Kilgharrah moved forward. Arthur just looked at both of them; there was no way in hell that he was riding on a dragon.

'Merlin,' he began slowly.

'Arthur,' Merlin replied, mimicking his tone exactly.

All things considered, Arthur knew that he had no choice but to accept Merlin's suggestion. But the thought of flying hundreds of feet above the ground on a creature that could quite happily eat him and had tried to kill him in the past, filled him with a terror that he was sure wasn't befitting of a King.

'Fine,' he muttered through gritted teeth. 'Elyan,' he called, turning to his knight, who was watching the whole proceedings with a sort of detached disbelief. Arthur was about to ask him to stay here with the Prince until they returned, but a cursory sweep of the clearing told him that the Prince was nowhere to be seen.

'Where's Arthur?' he asked, looking first at Elyan and then Merlin.

'I believe he ran that way after the connection was made,' Kilgharrah said, tilting his head towards the place where Arthur had entered the clearing earlier. Arthur considered asking the dragon why he hadn't thought that was worth mentioning at the time, but figured that if he was about to accept a ride from the creature, he didn't want to annoy him and give him cause to drop him from a great height.

'Merlin, Elyan, make preparations. I'll be back in a moment.'

He didn't wait to see if they would follow his orders; he knew that this time, at least, Merlin would do what he was told.

Instead he tried to work out where the Prince would have gone. The chances were that the whole thing with the mind swap had upset him. Arthur could understand that entirely. There was still a terrible unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach and he again had to push away the image of Merlin helpless and terrified. The Prince wouldn't have gone far, of that Arthur was sure. It was not in his nature to run from what he was afraid of, but it was definitely in his nature to withdraw from situations that affected him deeply on an emotional level.

It didn't take long to find him. He had not wandered far into the forest. In the end, it was his anguished sobs that alerted Arthur to his location. He hesitated at first, knowing that he didn't like to be seen when he was upset; he had always been taught that showing emotion like that was a weakness, only of late had he begun to accept Merlin's philosophy that at times such displays were a show of great strength and heart. But still he pressed forward, encouraged by the thought that the Arthur before him was not him as he was now, but him as a child. A child who was rarely comforted when upset, but who, Arthur knew, had very much wished to be at times.

With that in mind, Arthur pressed forward and found the Prince kneeling on the forest floor, his head bent low, while his hands tore at his hair and his shoulders trembled as he heaved great cries of anguish and guilt and remorse. The desperation brought tears to Arthur's eyes as he watched his young self try and cope with the consequences of his actions. He had known that pain over and over again, but never at such a young age, not that he remembered, anyway.

But then he must have been through this as well, surely. The scar on his elbow had been proof that the boy in front of him was actually him from years ago. He had knelt face down on this forest floor twenty odd years ago, hating himself for what he had done, unable to cope with understanding the effects his actions had had. He had been there. And he had been in similar places throughout his life, wishing more than anything to turn back time and redo everything. And he had been there when it came to Merlin on more than one occasion, not always so severely, or so heartbreakingly, but he _had_ been there.

It took him a few seconds to realise that there were tears on his cheeks. He watched the Prince, heard his heartfelt apologies into the air and felt his own thoughts echo them. He had done this to Merlin as well, to the Merlin from his time, whether he remembered it or not. He had run away and left him to be starved to death by Morgana, tormented by her. Part of him just wanted to join the Prince on the floor and beg forgiveness along with him, but he couldn't do that. He wasn't that child anymore; that wasn't what his young self needed.

He tried to imagine when this had happened to him. What had his older self done? Had he told him to be a man, to push his emotions down, to put his energy into rescuing Merlin instead of crying over him? He hoped not, because that wasn't what the child needed and it wasn't what Arthur wanted to do. The only thing the boy needed to know now was that he wasn't alone in his despair.

Quietly, carefully, Arthur moved over to the Prince and sat down beside him. The boy, so caught up in his own self-loathing, didn't notice the King until a few seconds later, but when he did he looked up. Arthur saw his reflection in the boy's blue eyes, knew that the boy was seeing the same as he looked at the King.

Before he could question the move or change his mind, Arthur held out his arms to the boy. With no hesitation, he knelt up, climbed onto Arthur's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck, crying desperately into his shoulder.

Arthur wasn't sure exactly what to do once the Prince had hugged him. He enclosed the boy in his arms and held him tightly, while his small fingers dug into Arthur's skin like claws, trying to hold on to him, almost like he expected him to vanish. What was he meant to do now? He really wasn't very good with children. In his future, when he imagined his own children, he always saw Guinevere playing with them and hugging them and comforting them when they were upset. In his imagination, he was more likely to offer his sons a handshake and his daughters a pat on the head. He had no example on which to base anything of more affection. It was only in the few years before his father had died that Arthur had ever received a hug from the man.

But somehow, sitting here with a younger version of himself, the thought of being so aloof to his children, to any child for that matter, seemed ridiculous. He had had to spend years trying to make up for the lack of affection that he had been given, learning how to let people in, to show people that he cared. He wasn't all that good at it now, but he was better than he had been.

He glanced down at the boy in his arms and wondered if this was the first time he had ever truly been held close by someone. But what to do now?

As it turned out, he didn't have to think of anything. The Prince began for him.

'I've killed him,' he whispered in a croaky voice. His words caught in his throat several times.

'No you haven't. We're going to go and find him in just a moment. Merlin knows where Morgana's taken him.'

'He hates me.'

'It's Merlin; he doesn't know how to hate anybody.'

'No, he does. He looked at me and he was so…' he closed his eyes again, a few sobs stealing from his lips. '…he was so angry with me. So angry.'

'Once we find him, it'll be alright.'

'He'll still hate me.'

'Not if you show him how sorry you are when we return with him.'

'What?' the Prince asked sharply.

'If you say sorry-'

'No, I mean.' He got off Arthur's lap and stood up facing him. 'I'm going with you too, aren't I? I want to help.'

'You can't. It'll be quicker if it's just Merlin and I.'

'No please, Arthur. I want to help. I want to show him that I know I was wrong. Just like you said.'

Arthur surveyed his face. There was a determination in it that Arthur knew all too well. And as much as he tried to ignore what the boy was saying, he knew how he felt. He knew what being left behind would mean to the boy.

'Alright, you can come, but you do exactly as I say and no more ordering Merlin around,' he added firmly.

'I won't. I just thought he was right back then.'

'He was, but don't tell him,' Arthur replied. They made their way back to the clearing and Arthur couldn't help but notice how the two of them frantically scrubbed at their faces, trying to remove every trace of tears and emotional responses. He hoped that his attempt was more successful than the Prince's, whose eyes were still red rimmed. At least the boy wouldn't be on the end of Merlin's knowing looks when the sorcerer spotted them. Arthur on the other hand would have to face Merlin's barely concealed grin if the sorcerer spotted that he had been crying.

Thoughts of avoiding Merlin's sympathetic pride, however, vanished entirely when Arthur reached the clearing and spotted a man going through Merlin's supplies.

'Hey!' he shouted, drawing his sword and racing a little further around the edge of the clearing, until he had the sword pointed at the man's throat. Only then did he notice the telltale sign of the red Camelot cloak. 'Who are you and what do you think you're doing with our supplies?'

'Arthur!' Two voices called him. One belonged to Merlin and one belonged to the Prince.

'What are you doing?' Merlin asked, reaching him and breathing heavily after his sprint.

'This man is stealing from us.'

'This man is Elyan,' Merlin told him incredulously, 'one of your most loyal knights.'

'What?'

'Sire, your memories are going.' Elyan said calmly. 'It's me, Elyan. I'm Guinevere's brother.'

'She doesn't have a brother,' Arthur replied with a frown. Did she have a brother?

'Who's Guinevere?' Merlin asked. Now it was Arthur's turn to give Merlin an incredulous look.

'What do you mean, 'who's Guinevere?'' Arthur asked. 'Guinevere. Your friend. My wife!'

'Your wife?' Merlin all but shouted. 'Somebody agreed to marry you?'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Arthur hissed, taking his sword away from the man that was supposedly his brother in law and pointing at Merlin who was supposedly needed alive to help them sort out their current disaster. Arthur wasn't convinced by either of those things.

'Sorry,' Merlin blurted out. 'It just took me by surprise.' He shook his head as if trying to sort out his thoughts. 'When did you get married?' he blurted out, his voice going higher. Arthur rolled his eyes. 'Is there something wrong with…Guinevere?' He said it with such genuine confusion that Arthur felt his temper rise.

'Merlin.' The warning in Arthur's tone could not be mistaken.

'Stop!'

Both of them turned at the sound of the Prince's commanding voice. 'We're wasting time. This is Elyan, he's a knight –even though he's not of noble blood. His sister –who isn't of noble blood either- is Guinevere who also happens to be married to the King. That's you,' he added for clarification, pointing at Arthur. Arthur gave him a withering look. 'Both of you are loosing your memories, but if you want them back we need to go and find Merlin now! So stop arguing!'

His final demand echoed round the clearing, leaving all three men in silence for several seconds.

'I think he's right,' Merlin said after a while.

'Of course he is. He's me,' Arthur muttered at his friend. He was rewarded with a raised eyebrow from Merlin. Trying to focus on the task at hand and mustering as much kingly authority as he could, Arthur turned to Elyan, trying to pretend that he knew him, and at the same time struggling to spot anything familiar about him. He did, Arthur supposed, look a bit like Guinevere.

'…Sir…Elyan,' he said carefully. Elyan gave him a look which suggested that Arthur rarely, if ever, addressed him by his title.'

'Yes Sire?' he replied, equally cautiously.

'I would like you to ride back to Camelot and inform the council and Sir…' he cast around for the name of his chief knight, of any knight, but not a single one came to mind. He couldn't picture them. Did he even have any knights?

'…Sir Leon,' Elyan supplied.

'Yes, Sir Leon. Please inform him and anyone else who needs to know, where Merlin and I are heading. And please let your…sister,' it was almost a question, '… know as well.'

'Of course, Sire,' he said with a bow of his head. 'Do you want me to take Prince Arthur back as well?'

'No, he'll be with us.'

'Very well Sire.'

With that the man handed over the supplies that he had been in the process of moving when Arthur had threatened him with the sword and then led the two horses back into the forest, heading in Camelot's direction.

By the time he reached Kilgharrah, Merlin and the Prince had already packed the supplies onto the dragon and were ready to climb up. He handed Merlin the last few packs and then stepped back beside the Prince. The boy was hovering nervously, several metres away from Kilgharrah's front legs, while Merlin was making his way onto his back.

'Aren't you worried that you'll faint again and fall off?' the Prince called, making no effort to move forward, although it was evidently his turn to climb on.

'No, I think the connection I made with my young self has taken over whatever connection was causing the fainting. I think I'll be fine. Are you coming up?'

'Yes,' he snapped, but remained where he was.

'It seems that Arthur Pendragon is a frightened little child after all,' Kilgharrah mused to himself. Arthur saw the Prince square his shoulders and hold his head high and was conscious that he did exactly the same at the words. The dragon's chuckle whistled around the clearing.

Soon, all three of them were on Kilgharrah's back and Arthur tried not to think of what would happen next. Kilgharrah gave no warning, but with a mighty leap, jumped into the air and flapped his huge wings. Arthur felt the wind whip around his face and held on tightly to the neck spike that was in front of him. He saw the Prince up ahead, clinging desperately to Merlin's back, his eyes tightly closed. Merlin on the other hand looked perfectly at ease, aside from the confused expression on his face. As if sensing Arthur's gaze, he turned back and looked at him.

'What's the matter?' Arthur asked him.

'Did you really get married?'

Had there been anything to throw at Merlin, Arthur would have hurled it as hard as he could at the man's head, but as it was he had to settle for glaring at his friend. This had no affect on Merlin, who simply shook his head in contemplation.

'Must be some girl,' he mused to himself, before turning back round.

Arthur didn't argue with that one. Instead he focussed on every memory he still retained of Guinevere, going over each one again and again in his head, until every detail was so clear in his mind that he couldn't imagine ever forgetting her. Up ahead, the sun finally sank behind the horizon and they flew through the air, black and invisible, like spectres from another world.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	25. Chapter 25

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for the reviews! Not much action in this chapter, but hopefully plenty of good moments. And then after this chapter the action barely stops! Please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

Merlin knew that Morgana was suspicious. Something about the way she was looking at him, about the fact that she hadn't commented on his sudden increase in hope. He was trying his hardest to hide it of course, and what with the hunger and thirst that still plagued him, despite what the King had given him, it wasn't difficult to appear like he was at death's door, but try as he might he couldn't seem to control his body completely. When she was talking to him, or very close to him, it was no struggle to just appear like the frightened child that he was, but as soon as she moved away, he felt himself relaxing, felt the hope rising. He knew that she had caught him smiling to himself on more than one occasion, but so far, she hadn't commented on it.

He knew he should stop, but how could he when they were coming for him, when he had actually been able to talk to them? King Arthur had said that they would come and find him soon and he believed him. His older self trusted Arthur completely, so he knew he could too. If the King said that they were going to rescue him then that was what was going to happen.

Prince Arthur on the other hand... Merlin was still filled with an incredibly powerful anger whenever he thought of the boy. Even more so because of how he had acted in the clearing. He had stood there, looking frightened and all but crying. What did he have to be frightened about? What did he have to cry about? He wasn't the one stuck with an evil witch intent on killing him. Merlin tried to fight back against the furious and vengeful thoughts, but it was more difficult than hiding the hope he felt. He knew it wasn't like him and he could hear his mother and his older self telling him that the Prince regretted what he had done, but some how, this time, that didn't seem enough for Merlin.

And so Merlin tried not to think about the Prince, except when Morgana caught him smiling and he needed to give his emotions a turn around. And now it was just a matter of waiting. Waiting. He hated waiting. He wasn't that bad at it, but it just gave him far too much time to think and reflect and he'd done too much of that already.

So instead, he tried to sleep. When they came and got him, he would need to have enough strength to go with them. He was sure that the King could carry him if it came to it, but what if he had to fight Morgana with Merlin?

Sleep was a long time coming to him and he woke up on several occasions to be met with the darkness of the cave, or whatever it was that Morgana was keeping him in. But it wasn't the darkness that unnerved him. It was the fact that more than once when he woke up it was to sense Morgana right beside him, her breath on his cheek and her hand on his head. The sensation made him want to shudder, but he held still, terrified that she would realise he was awake. At least he would be free of her soon. It was that thought, and that thought alone, that kept him from screaming into the air.

* * *

><p>Arthur squinted down at the ground far below them, trying to get some idea of where they were, but even if the moon had given enough light to show the land in detail, Arthur doubted he would have recognised it. He was quickly beginning to realise that travelling the land on foot and soaring above it were two very different things. Nothing looked familiar from this angle. Vast and varied forests became a plush carpet; rivers became silver necklaces laid out across the dark skin of the land.<p>

All Arthur knew was that they had been flying for several hours and that he was uncomfortable. Merlin had very kindly cast some spells to try and ease the feel of Kilgharrah's hard scales, but they seemed to be wearing off and Arthur longed to walk on solid ground once again. Up ahead, Merlin seemed to be watching the stars with child like wonder, while the Prince appeared to have fallen asleep. That didn't sit easily with Arthur, not when they were this high up. It was true that Kilgharrah flew very smoothly, but one wrong gust of wind could send all of them, let alone a sleeping boy, careering down to the ground.

'Merlin,' he called as quietly as he could whilst still being heard over the rush of wind around them. Merlin turned to look at him. 'Can you keep hold of Arthur, he's asleep.'

'I've already put an enchantment on all of us. We won't fall,' he reassured him. Arthur nodded; he should have known Merlin would have thought of that.

'Merlin,' he called again. Merlin turned back and waited patiently. Arthur took a deep breath and struggled to meet his friend's gaze, but he couldn't remain silent. 'I can't remember my father.' Merlin stared at him for a moment and then, in a move which made Arthur's stomach drop, stood up and turned round so that he was facing Arthur. He grinned when he caught sight of Arthur's face and then sat back down.

'Don't worry. Even if my enchantment wore off Kilgharrah wouldn't let me fall.'

'Don't do that,' Arthur breathed.

'Alright,' Merlin agreed. Silence fell on them again, but Arthur felt like he should be the one to break it.

'Do you remember him?'

'Mostly,' Merlin nodded after a few moments. 'Those memories still seem to be there.'

Arthur studied Merlin intently, wondering how the next request would make his friend feel.

'Can you tell me about him?' Arthur watched the change come over Merlin's face; the way he looked away and took several breaths, like he was choosing his words, or feeling uncomfortable with where a conversation was going.

'I'm not sure I knew him well enough,' he said quietly.

'Anything at all will do,' Arthur pressed. More silence, but then Merlin spoke.

'He loved you very much. I think you were the thing he was most proud of and he died with no doubts about your ability to be a great King.'

'Am I like him?' Arthur pressed, realising that Merlin had not really answered his question.

'Sometimes,' he nodded. 'You have the same stubbornness, but I don't think you're so…blinded by it. You have the same passion for Camelot as he did; in fact you are probably more passionate.'

'And was he a good King?' Arthur asked. This time Merlin didn't answer for a long time and only the howling of the night air attempted to answer Arthur's question at first.

'I don't really remember.'

'Merlin.'

'I think he did what he thought was right,' Merlin eventually said. 'But I don't remember all of his decisions being good.' Arthur nodded and mulled over the words. He didn't know why he wanted to know these things now, but with his life's memories disintegrating around him, he was struggling to remember the things that made him who he was. He was struggling to get a grasp of where he came from. He had thought that trying to remember his father again would help, but it hadn't. It had only left him with more questions that he wasn't sure Merlin wanted to answer even if he _could_ remember. He wasn't convinced he wanted to hear the answers either.

'Do you remember Gaius?' Arthur asked instead. Merlin face grew sad at the words.

'I only remember what he looks like. I don't remember him as such. I just have a feeling that I've lost a lot by forgetting him. I don't remember my mother. My father must have been a Dragon Lord, but I can't remember anything about him.' He looked at Arthur hopefully, but he just shrugged his shoulders apologetically. He was at as much of a loss as Merlin was. At the moment neither of them seemed to have come from anywhere, or been anything before the events of the past few days. Their roots were being cut away quickly and without regard and Arthur knew that if things didn't change the only outcome could be their deaths.

'Will we be able to do this, Merlin?' he asked after several minutes of dark silence. Arthur didn't like the sound of defeat in his voice. He didn't feel despair very often, at least he didn't think he did, but somehow he knew that Merlin would be the one to pull him out of it. He was wise; Arthur was sure he remembered that about his friend.

'Well we've obviously done it once before; otherwise how are we here?'

'So there's no chance that we can fail?'

'I think there's every chance we could,' Merlin answered slowly. 'There's no guarantee that everything will happen exactly the same this time round. We still have the opportunity to do things that will lead to us failing, but at least we know that it's possible. We just have to find the right way.' Arthur wasn't sure that the words comforted him exactly, but they gave him a sense of purpose and a clearer focus. He was about the start discussing the plan once they arrived at the gorge, but Merlin spoke up.

'Arthur,' he began quietly. 'What do you remember about us? About the things we've done together? About our friendship?'

They were the worst questions Merlin could have asked him because the truth was that he remembered very little. In fact, a lot of the bond that he currently felt with Merlin was not based on past experiences, but on the knowledge of what he knew their relationship was. He knew that he could trust Merlin, but aside from the rooftop and a few other incidents, he couldn't remember why. He knew that Merlin had magic and that he used it for good, but he was having to cling onto that understanding very tightly. In the past few hours, the memory loss seemed to have sped up.

'Not a lot,' he admitted.

'Nor me,' Merlin agreed solemnly. The unspoken fear stretched out between them palpably in the night air. How could they complete this mission if they didn't remember each other?

'Arthur,' Merlin said; his tone was much firmer now, the determination and desperation in it very clear. 'You have to remember that I am on your side. Whatever else you forget, you have to remember that you can trust me.'

'I know,' he nodded. 'If I forget-'

'You can't.'

'But if I do,' he pressed, 'tell me to look at the scroll in my jacket, alright?'

'What do you mean?'

'It doesn't matter, but if it comes to it, tell me to look at the scroll. It might buy us a little more time.'

Merlin looked like he wanted to ask more, but eventually he nodded his assent. Arthur was going to ask what Merlin would do if he forgot the relationship between the two of them, but he realised, with a sense of shame, that that wouldn't be a problem for Merlin. As far as Arthur was aware, Merlin had never turned against him. At most, he might think Arthur was a prat, but Arthur was relatively sure that Merlin still thought that now anyway, memories or no memories.

The weight of the conversation seemed to press down on Arthur as the night sky passed them by and he didn't want to think about the endless possibilities of what could go wrong over the next few hours. He felt his mind slip into a more practical focus. He was a knight and a king. Even if he couldn't remember the majority of his life so far, he still knew a thing or two about strategy.

'We need a plan,' he said quickly. Merlin nodded in agreement. 'And we might as well wake up Arthur so he knows about it.'

'I suppose having one person in on the plan who isn't suffering from memory loss might be useful,' Merlin grinned. He quickly woke the Prince, who looked confused then terrified as he realised where he was and finally settled into a state of grim acceptance of the situation.

'Are we there already?'

'No,' Arthur told him. 'But we need to have a plan of attack and you need to know about it.' The boy nodded quickly, unable to hide his pride at being included in the process. 'Merlin, what can you tell us?'

'I know roughly where Morgana's keeping him in the gorge, but she may have moved him again over the last few hours, so once we arrive, I'll reform the link and check where he is.'

'Is that really a good idea?'

'It's the only way we can be sure of his whereabouts, otherwise we might waste time heading the wrong way. Once the switch is made, you two need to tell him what's going on. I'll try and keep the connection going for a minute or two, while you give him as much food and water as you can. He'll need whatever strength we can give him.'

'But what about Morgana?' the Prince asked.

'When you made the switch, Merlin told us her magic was back,' Arthur added. 'I don't remember very much, but I'm sure she's powerful.'

'She is,' Merlin agreed, 'which is why I'm going to go and get Merlin on my own.'

'What?' came the joint voices of Arthur and the Prince, their tones identical. Merlin looked back and forth between them and then sighed.

'Neither of you will be any use against her,' he sighed. 'You know that. It'll be easier for me if I don't have to watch out for the two of you.'

'So you want me to stay back and watch the dragon?' Arthur asked incredulously. At the word, Kilgharrah gave a snort and tilted them all violently sideways. Had it not been for Merlin's enchantments, Arthur was sure they'd all be crashing to the ground by now. Merlin was looking at him expectantly, nodding his head towards Kilgharrah's. Arthur rolled his eyes. 'I'm sorry,' he called to the creature. He didn't respond, but a moment later they were flying straight again.

'You need to stay with Prince Arthur,' Merlin added as soon as they were level. Arthur gave him a glare which conveyed exactly how he felt about babysitting.

'I don't need watching,' the Prince retorted. 'And anyway, what if you run off to get Morgana and then forget why you're there? You'll need me with you just to make sure you know what you're doing, even if you do leave Arthur behind.'

'I am not being left behind,' Arthur told him firmly.

'Actually, you both are,' Merlin cut across more firmly. 'This is the best way. And as for Morgana, I won't forget, and neither will Arthur.'

'How do you know?' the Prince asked.

'Because the only things that are truly clear in my memories are the events of the past few days: you, Merlin, Morgana, the time travel. She's central to the whole thing, she started it all. Her magic brought it about. Even if we forget who she is, we'll still know that she's the one we're fighting against.'

'You don't know that for sure,' the Prince retorted.

'Arthur,' Merlin said, asking for some back up.

'He's right,' Arthur admitted. 'I remember those things clearly.' It was true that he could only just remember the fact that Morgana was his sister, but what she had done over the past few days and her remaining intentions were branded on his mind. The Prince looked unconvinced, but eventually nodded. 'So that's it then? You grab Merlin, deal with Morgana and then Kilgharrah will take us back to the clearing?'

'Yes. As soon as we're there, I'll cast the spell which will activate all the others and then everything will go back to normal.'

'You're sure?' Arthur asked.

'Am I ever?' Merlin sighed. 'It's the best I can do. If it doesn't work…' He shrugged.

'It will work,' the Prince nodded; determination in his voice.

They left it there. It was a scant plan at best, but it was the only possible way. Merlin turned round and went back to star gazing and Arthur quickly filled the Prince in on the scroll in his pocket and on where Merlin was keeping the copy of the spell he would need along with the pendant. The boy seemed to take a certain strength from being involved in such a pivotal way and he listened to Arthur with rapt attention, taking in every word. He even turned himself round, as Merlin had done, to make sure that he missed nothing.

'Do you understand everything?' Arthur asked him a few minutes later when he had told the boy anything that could be of use.

'Yes,' he nodded. 'I won't let you down. I'll make sure we rescue Merlin. And I'll make sure that you remember everything that you need to.'

'Good.'

'And then, when I'm older and I have to do this again, I'll know exactly what to do. I'll stop my young self from letting Merlin be captured and I'll make sure that I keep the doors and windows locked to his room so that he doesn't try and runaway and-'

'No,' Arthur told him, a frown on his face. 'No, you won't be able to do that.'

'Yes, I will. It would save all this trouble,' he argued.

'Arthur, you won't remember any of this.'

'Of course I will.'

'No, you won't. I don't remember any of it and it must have happened to me. You are me.'

'But I remember everything,' he said, his forehead creasing in confusions. 'I won't forget. My memories aren't going.'

Arthur debated whether to tell him how those memories would disappear. That was another thing he remembered quite clearly. Merlin deciding that he would erase the boys' memories just before they were sent back. He considered saying nothing, but at least if he did, the boy would be prepared when it happened. He could argue it out now, rather than wasting time when they were being sent back.

'Arthur,' he began slowly. 'Merlin is going to erase your memories of coming here, both of you, before he sends you back.'

'What? But that's not fair,' he said, his voice rising. Arthur could see the fight coming into his eyes. 'Why do you get to pick what we can remember?'

'Because you can't be allowed to remember this. You know too many things about your own future.'

'I don't care! That doesn't matter.'

'Your life has to play out as mine did,' Arthur explained, wishing Merlin would turn round and help him out, but he barely seemed aware of the conversation. 'Otherwise history would be wrong.'

'No! It would just be different!' he snapped and Arthur was shocked to see his eyes glistening. 'Just because you lived your life one way, it doesn't mean I should have to!'

'Arthur.'

'No! I don't care what you say. I won't let him take my memories.'

Arthur felt his anger rising up. Why should he have to argue a point with himself?

'It's not as if this is something you want to remember,' he retorted, keeping his voice even, although his jaw was clenched. 'Which part do you want to think back on exactly? Being locked in the dungeons, being attacked by a witch, leaving Merlin to-'

'Arthur!' Merlin's voice snapped him out of his rant, but the boy had known what his next words would be. Arthur felt guilt fill him as he looked at the boy's shocked and hurt face. 'That isn't why he wants to remember,' Merlin told him pointedly. Arthur resisted the urge to scowl at Merlin; if he'd been listening all along then why hadn't he helped Arthur with the explanation? But then, perhaps this wasn't really about Merlin, or spells, or memories, or anything like that. Perhaps it was a conversation that Arthur needed to have with his young self.

'I'm sorry,' he told the boy. He nodded, but it took several seconds before he looked like he believed the words. 'Why don't you want to forget?' he asked gently.

'Because…' he began, clearly wondering whether his words would just start another argument. He pressed on. 'Because I don't want to forget what I learnt about being a King and about magic and about Merlin. If I don't remember him and if I don't remember that magic can be good, then I'll do horrible things in my future. I'll treat people badly.'

'Listen to me,' Arthur replied, fighting not to give in to the stricken look on the boy's face. The words made sense to him, so much so that he didn't find it hard to believe that he had said those things twenty years ago. How much heart ache could have been spared if he had remembered who Merlin was; if he had known that Morgana had the potential to become evil; if he had understood magic more fully? But those unknowns, as painful as their consequences had sometimes been, had shaped him and made him who he was. 'You will know all these things again one day. And yes, you will have made some mistakes along the way, but you'll learn from them and you'll become stronger because of them.' He sighed. 'I know that you believe these things with all your heart now, but you're only seven years old. What if your father and everybody else in the Kingdom, convinced you that you were wrong? What if you start thinking magic is evil again? What if you remember Merlin's magic and you hurt him because of it or…or even kill him?'

'I won't,' Arthur whispered.

'Can you say that for sure?' Arthur asked him. 'Can you risk it? Because if Merlin does die, then how will you fight Morgana twenty years from now? How will you fight anything magical if Merlin's not here?'

'I don't want to go back to what I was like before,' the boy eventually whispered.

'It's only for a while,' Arthur assured him. 'And one day you'll know that you thought like this,' he continued, smiling at him. 'You'll be sat here, on a dragon, in the middle of nowhere, talking to a seven year old version of yourself and feeling proud that you know what happened all those years ago.'

'Do you really feel proud?'

'Yes,' Arthur nodded.

'Why?'

'Because I know that I had the strength to sacrifice those memories to keep Merlin and everybody else safe. Didn't I?' he asked gently. The Prince realised what was being said to him.

'Yes,' he eventually nodded, his face clearing somewhat. He still looked sad, but there was understanding on his features now. Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

Looking up he saw Merlin watching him, with a small smile on his face. He got the impression that in times gone by, the look would have caused Arthur to glare back at him, but strangely he didn't feel like doing that now. Instead he returned the smile and nodded, reaching a hand forward and resting it on his friend's shoulder. He withdrew it after a few seconds and their conversation fell behind them.

A few minutes later, Kilgharrah started his descent, and down below the Esen Gorge became clearer: a jagged jaw line of stone and rock eating away at the land.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	26. Chapter 26

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you once again for the reviews! Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it, and please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26<strong>

Merlin felt his legs buckle somewhat as he jumped down from Kilgharrah and had to steady himself. He hated flying. Yes, it was probably the quickest way to move about and it certainly gave him a new perspective which he enjoyed, but it wasn't comfortable. He took a few experimental steps, trying to stave of the stiffness that had entered his joints and saw Arthur and the Prince doing the same. To his relief, they had not challenged him again about coming with him to face Morgana. They must have seen the wisdom in staying away and not giving Merlin two more people to worry about on top of himself and his counterpart.

They had landed some distance from the gorge entrance in order to ensure that Morgana would not see or hear them. It was unlikely that she would, given that the majority of the gorge overhangs blocked the sky from view, but Merlin didn't want to risk it. Kilgharrah had set about shielding their magical presence, just in case Morgana picked up on it and tried to make a run for it. Surprise was their best ally at the moment and they could do with all the help they could get. Merlin wasn't looking forward to facing her if her powers had completely returned. As Arthur said, he didn't remember much about Morgana from before the past few days, but what she had done in the clearing and how powerful she had been then was not lost on him. He was just hoping he could counter her for long enough to rescue Merlin.

He had, at first, been worried that his rapidly diminishing memories would hinder him when it came to remembering spells to use against her, but Kilgharrah had reminded him that the majority of his magic was instinctual. That put Merlin at ease somewhat, but the dragon had gone one step further and imprinted some spells onto his mind through their telepathic connection. He would probably have enough to carry their plan through to completion.

He gave one final stretch of his arms and then looked back at the others.

'Are you going to make the connection?' Arthur asked.

'It would be better if we were a little closer to the gorge. The less time he has to wait to be rescued the less likely he'll be to give us away.'

'So we can come with you then?' the Prince asked.

'Only to the edge of the gorge. I'm going in on my own.'

Their scepticism showed on their faces, but neither argued.

Quickly, the three of them made their way to gorge. Kilgharrah came part way with them, but the forests in the area made it tricky for him to navigate on the ground and so he was forced to stop about half a mile from where they were heading. It made Merlin nervous to leave him so far behind them, but they couldn't risk him taking to the air to complete the journey and alerting Morgana of their presence.

At last, the forest tumbled down hill and petered out as the gorge opened up, disappearing into the earth and rocks. In the dull dawn light it was hard to make out anything, but next to the river there was a clear outcrop of rock which had not been eroded away over the years and formed a path –if an uneven one- into the darkness. The three of them peered into it for some time and then backed up a little way.

'You ready?' Arthur asked him. He nodded and quickly sat down on the floor, figuring that it would be easier for his young self if he didn't have to stay on his feet. He leant against part of the rock face and moved into a more comfortable position.

'You're only going to have a minute or so,' Merlin told them.

'We know,' Arthur nodded.

'You need to tell him the plan.'

'We know.'

'And give him-'

'Yes, Merlin,' Arthur said in a frustrated whisper, 'we know. Just hurry up.'

'Wait. I don't think he should see me,' the Prince suddenly blurted out.

'Why not?' Merlin asked.

'He's really angry with me at the moment. It might make it harder to tell him the plan.'

Merlin was relatively sure that his young self wouldn't waste time being angry, but maybe the Prince had a point.

'Fine, just hide then.' The boy nodded and darted off behind a nearby tree. 'One minute,' Merlin said, looking firmly at Arthur.

'It'll be fine,' Arthur assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

'Alright then.'

Merlin closed his eyes and uttered the spell to form the connection. He felt the unusual and slightly unpleasant sensation of being wrenched into a loud version of nothingness. For several seconds he tried to hold his breath, but then remembered what was happening to his consciousness and realised that he couldn't possibly be doing that. It was the only thing he could relate it to, however, and so he continued to mentally hold his breath until he felt himself come to a sudden and somewhat dizzying stop.

It was dark in the cave where he found himself and the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in the same place that he had been last time he swapped into his counterpart's body. He looked round quickly, determined to find some clues as to where he was in relation to the gorge entrance where his body was currently sitting, but before he could turn his head more than a few degrees he froze.

Morgana was there, in the cavern, only a few metres from him and she was talking, saying things that he was sure were directed at him. She was pacing slowly as she spoke and she only gave him occasional glances. In the dull light he doubted that she could see him properly, but if she got any closer, the chances were she would notice that her formally sickly and all-but-dead hostage was looking very much healthier.

He had factored in the possibility that Morgana could be close at hand when he made the switch and scrambled through his mind to try and remember what he had decided was the best course of action if that was the case. Primarily it was to do with hiding his face. The state of his body would be masked by the torn and filthy state of the clothing he currently wore and could smell, but if she saw his face, with colour in his cheeks, bright eyes and just a general glow of healthiness, she would know instantly that something was happening. Whether she would guess the truth, he didn't know -although he doubted it- but either way, it would spook her into moving and the success of their plan depended on his young self being in the same spot when Merlin came to rescue him a few minutes from now.

'…you're lasting longer than I thought. I'm growing impatient,' Morgana was murmuring in a silky and threatening voice. She turned to look at him, but he didn't reply. Surely by now, his counterpart had realised that rising to Morgana's comments only encouraged her on. He remained silent, pressing his lips together and trying to surreptitiously look around the room.

Judging by the height of the cavern and the small glow of light that he could see far above, he guessed that they were quite deep into the gorge. In the distance, he could just hear the whispering of the river, which suggested that they weren't along the main root of the gorge, but much further into the channels that had been cut into the rock by tributaries to the Esen River. Had it been a few hours ago, he might have remembered where those channels were, but as his memory had long since failed him, he doubted he'd be able to find his way here without some sort of magic trace to guide him. And that was going to be tricky with a witch who had her powers back only a few feet away.

His silence had evidently irritated Morgana, because suddenly she was moving forward. Merlin tucked his knees up to his chest and put his head down against them. With his free arm, the one that wasn't encased in a rope which had been fused to the rock face, he shielded the rest of his face from her and hoped that would be enough. He felt her crouch down beside him, could feel her breath on the back of his neck, making his skin crawl.

'What is it, Merlin?' she asked gently. The sincerity in her voice sent a shudder through him. A shudder which turned into a sudden jerk when he felt her hand press against his head. What was she doing? He tried to move away from her, but if he wanted his face to remain hidden then he had no choice but to stay put. He heard her whispering some words and felt the sudden flow of magic in the room. She was trying to break through the wards, he realised. He couldn't remember what all the words meant, but he got the gist of her spell all too clearly. Without alerting her to what he was doing, he used magic to examine the state of the shields. What he discovered increased his sense of urgency. She was nearly through them. He doubted she realised how close she was to obliterating them, but the confidence in the way she spoke and the precision of her spells suggested that she had some inclination.

He wanted to use his magic to reinforce them again, but he wasn't convinced he could stop her from sensing the use of magic if he was coating himself in it. On top of that, he was severely limited by what his six year old body could do when it came to magic. His young self hadn't had years of practice to build up his power. Any wards that he did put on his body at the moment wouldn't provide much more protection than a very thin layer of wood.

She was speaking again, repeating her previous question and evidently expecting an answer. Making his voice sound as croaky and hoarse as he could Merlin uttered a small and what he hoped was a terrified reply.

'I don't want to die.'

'Nobody does,' she mused, but he could hear the vicious smile in her voice. 'But you don't have a choice.' She got up and moved back a few paces. Inwardly, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and lifted his head slightly. 'It will all be over soon,' she told him, but she wasn't looking his way anymore. Instead she headed away from him and towards the rocky path that seemed to lead out of their current cavern formation.

Merlin put his head back against the rock and took a few seconds to calm himself down and get rid of her words from his head. He needed to get back to Arthur and soon. He'd already been here several minutes longer than he'd anticipated and he was sure the King and Prince would be getting worried. He listened intently, checking that Morgana's footsteps were echoing away from him and then began the task of laying down a magical trace. With his limited magical abilities, the trace would be very weak and Merlin would have to get at least part way to this cavern before he would be able to sense it again, but the weakness of it meant that it was easy to hide from Morgana. He had to use a magical camouflage of sorts to try and get the trace to match the magical atmosphere that was around it, but with the cavern so steeped in Morgana's magic, that wouldn't be too tricky. It wouldn't be hard to hide one small trace in amongst her terrible darkness.

It took a few minutes to lay it out, partly because he had to try and remember some of the words that would be required for the spell and partly because the spell itself was quite complicated for his young body, but eventually he managed it. With that done, he took one last look around the cavern and then muttered the spell that would reverse the connection. A few seconds later, he was sitting staring into Arthur's worried face.

'Merlin?' Arthur shook his shoulder and Merlin tried to bring the world back into focus.

'Yes, it's me,' he muttered when he was shaken again. 'I'm back.'

'What took you so long? You said we had a minute.'

'Sorry. Morgana was there.'

'Did she realise what was happening?' Arthur asked urgently. Merlin shook his head and noticed the Prince emerging from where he had been hidden.

'No, I don't think so. How was Merlin?'

'Scared, but determined,' Arthur nodded. 'He's getting desperate though. You need to find him quickly. Do you know where he is?'

'Not exactly, but,' he continued hastily at the look of alarm that shot across the faces of both his companions, 'I've laid out a magical trace. I can follow that and it will lead me straight to him. Don't worry. Did you give him some food and water?'

'Yes, he had plenty. I think he'll be strong enough.'

Merlin nodded, feeling pleased by the news. This would be a lot easier if his young self could walk of his own accord. He got to his feet and glanced back at the gorge. It was time to go.

'You might as well go back and wait with Kilgharrah,' Merlin told both Arthurs.

'No,' the Prince told him firmly.

'We're waiting here Merlin,' Arthur added. 'You don't know what state either of you will be in by the time you get back. You might need our help.'

'Arthur-'

'Merlin,' Arthur told him more firmly. 'I don't know if you remember this, but I hate sitting around doing nothing. It is bad enough that your logic for going alone makes sense, do not ask me to go back and sit with the dragon while you're risking your life.' His voice had become more and more cutting with every word and Merlin got the impression that he'd been on the receiving end of that tone on more than one occasion in the past. Arthur was staring at him, his eyes wide and challenging. The Prince had come to stand beside him and had his arms folded across his chest; he was watching Merlin with an almost identical expression.

'Alright,' Merlin agreed at last.

'Good.' He nodded at Merlin and stepped back. Merlin returned the gesture and then turned towards the gorge. He had wasted enough time already. He headed towards it and then turned back.

'I'll see you both soon.' He just caught the King's nod and the Prince's whispered goodbye before he headed into the gorge.

It quickly became very dark in the gorge, but he didn't want to give away his presence to Morgana by creating a light should she, for any reason, come this way. After all, he had watched her leave the cavern she was holding his young self in; she could be anywhere. The darkness made navigating quickly quite difficult. Merlin kept his hand against the wall; it was cold and damp under his fingers, but it gave him the steadying presence that he needed in order to make his way safely through the darkness. Underfoot, the rock was quite slippery and he had to take cautious steps as he moved forwards.

As he moved deeper into the formation, he became aware of the channels that had been cut into the rock, creating tunnel-like structures off the main path of the river. Merlin kept on feeling the wall disappear, only to reappear a few moments later. This had happened several times, and Merlin was just considering creating a light source when he felt the wall disappear again. Cautiously he stepped forward, only to find there was no rock on which to put his feet. He felt himself falling forward and at the last moment pushed off the ledge with his other foot which had not yet stepped into the empty air.

It was a risky move. He had no idea how wide the gap on the walkway was. For all he knew, he was just propelling himself into nothingness, but a moment later he felt a searing pain shoot through his chest as he crashed into the other edge. The breath was knocked out of him and his eyes watered with the pain, but he managed to keep his elbows on the ledge and pull himself up. He lay on the floor for several seconds, gasping for breath, but each time he did, pain shot through his chest, making him wince. He didn't know what he had done, but it felt bad.

Realising that no light was now riskier than some illumination, he whispered the spell that would provide a small flame. Once it was lit, he looked back at the gap and realised that in that place, the tributary river had cut much deeper into the rock, creating a drop of what looked to be many metres. The fall would have killed him.

After creating a light, his progress should have been quicker, but whatever he had done to his chest was agonising. He tried to use a few spells, but they only dulled the pain, there was no healing in them. Still it gave him the clarity he needed to carry on. It was only when he had to jump over several more drops that the pain seared again temporarily.

He walked on for several more minutes and at last began to become afraid that he had missed the magical trace somewhere back in the gorge, but slowly he became aware of a familiar and warm piece of magic that was resonating somewhere nearby. He allowed himself a smile as he sensed the familiar feeling of the trace and moved forward with more confidence. It still took several minutes to reach his destination, in which time he was led off the main route of the gorge and into some of the side tunnels.

Soon, he realised that he was getting much closer. He slowed his pace and lent against the wall, listening intently for any sign of movement and reaching out with his magic to try and see if Morgana was close by. Although the area seemed thick with her magical presence, it felt to Merlin more like a left over aura. He resisted the urge to grin as he realised that she wasn't there. He would have a clear run at his young self.

Quickly he moved down the remaining tunnels and reached the cavern that he knew held his young self. He recognised the rock structure even before he entered the main area of the room. With a smile on his face, he sent the light ahead of him, enchanting it to glow brighter, and then entered.

He froze as he was met with an empty room. The few bits that had been scattered around were still there. A small table, some food supplies, but Merlin and Morgana were nowhere to be seen. Merlin felt his heart begin to hammer rapidly in his chest. He raced into the room and crouched down where his young self had been tied up. The rope was still in the wall. Had Merlin escaped? No, that was impossible. The boy was weak and frightened: no match for Morgana. But then why wasn't he here? Merlin spun around as if hoping that just looking harder would make his young self appear.

Where had they gone? Where could she have taken him? It had only been twenty minutes at most since Merlin had broken the connection. Morgana had been in no rush when he was here; she hadn't been packing up or acting strangely. She hadn't looked like she was going anywhere. And so why…?

Merlin felt a terrible iciness sweep over him. His throat constricted and his thoughts seemed to shimmer before him.

She had known.

The realisation encompassed Merlin with a terrible fear.

She had known. That was the only reason she would have moved. Somehow she had known what was going on. How, Merlin didn't know, but suddenly he felt certain that she wasn't here because she had known what their plan was. Perhaps she had spotted the difference when Merlin had switched. Perhaps his young self had inadvertently given something away, or been frightened into giving something away. Either way, Merlin was sure that all three of his companions were in danger. Surely Morgana would have guessed that Merlin would face her alone. Surely she knew it was too risky for Arthur, King of Camelot, to be around her when he had no wards on him. She had been waiting for them to split up, Merlin realised. Which meant that right now she was heading towards Arthur.

Merlin let the knowledge overwhelm him with panic for a couple of seconds and then squashed it down to help him focus on the task. Without any further delay he opened his mouth to utter the spell that would create the link to his young self, but he was stopped when an almighty blast of power suddenly ripped through the cavern he was in.

He felt himself being thrown back against the wall; hitting his head against it with such force that his eyesight spotted with colours. He felt a wave of nausea sweep through him instantly at the pain and he had to fight to push it down as the power dissipated and he was sent crashing to the floor; his ankle screamed in protest as it connected with the rock. He lay there, dazed, for several seconds, feeling incredibly dizzy, but the knowledge that Morgana was most likely heading towards Arthur and the Prince forced him to roll onto his front and push himself up into a kneeling position on very shaky legs and arms.

He was about to attempt getting to his feet when a magical burst, followed by several loud cracking sounds stole his attention. He glanced up and saw huge chunks of rock flying out of the rock face, towards the top of the gorge. He realised with horror that Morgana had infused the rocks with magic and now whatever enchantment she had cast was expelling the magic with such great force that it was causing the rocks to explode and cascade down towards him. There were points like that around the entirety of the room.

Merlin rolled onto his back again and instinctively threw his arms up in the air. No words came out of his mouth, his magic, instead, reacted to the threat he was under and the thoughts that were rushing through his head. He knew that the weight of the rocks was getting to be too much. Had he been at his full strength he might have been able to hold them back, but his head was spinning from the impact with the wall.

He lay there, powerless; helpless to get to Arthur; unable to switch with his younger self and find out where he was because he knew the boy would never be able to sustain the spell to stop the gorge collapsing on him.

Merlin felt the terrible truth settle on him. Morgana, knowing he would come, had set a trap for him.

And he had walked straight into it.

* * *

><p>Please review<p> 


	27. Chapter 27

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Please let me know what you think of this chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 27<strong>

Arthur watched as the King got up again and walked towards the gorge entrance, sword in hand, only to turn back round with a sigh and sit down on the fallen tree that he had occupied when Merlin had gone into the gorge. The Prince counted down in his head. In less than thirty seconds the King would get up and start pacing across the ground, only to sit down again a few moments later.

Sure enough, the King heaved another sigh and got up. He walked slowly across to the tree line, his eyes fixed on the floor and his brow furrowed intently and then turned and headed back to his seat. Arthur watched his back and forward movements trying to work out what he could possibly do to help his older self out, but nothing came to mind. If he was honest with himself, the only reason he wasn't doing the same thing was because he didn't want Merlin, young Merlin, to see him straightaway when he appeared at the entrance to the gorge. He wanted the boy to feel safe with their older selves first and then he would attempt to broach an apology.

In fact, thoughts of his apology occupied his mind entirely. What was he going to say? How could he possibly show Merlin that he was sorry and have the boy believe him? He'd gone through several possible word choices in his head, but none of them sounded like they said enough; none of them seemed to really show the depth of his regret. They sounded practiced and rehearsed and feeble, and he didn't want that.

He shook his head and risked getting up from his own chosen place –leaning against a tree trunk and shielded from view- and moved slowly over to the King who had sat back down again temporarily.

'Are you alright?' he asked the King.

'I'm fine,' he replied a little sharply. He looked up apologetically, 'What about you?'

'A bit worried.'

'Merlin will accept your apology.' Neither of them said anything for a few moments, but then the King looked at him, giving him a measured look. 'You have all your memories don't you?' he asked.

'Yes. Why? Have you forgotten something else?'

'I'm struggling to…' he began and then shook his head, frowning and closing his eyes, trying to remember. 'I can't remember why magic is good,' he said at last. 'I know that we're here for Merlin and I know that the Merlin from my time is the Court Sorcerer, but I can't remember why I allowed it.'

Arthur could see the fight going on in the King's mind, just from the way his face was tight with concentration. He was trying to hold on to things.

'Magic isn't good or bad,' he explained, remembering what Merlin had told him. 'It's just the people who are. A good person's magic will be good and a bad person's magic will be bad.'

'Right,' the King nodded, looking a little relieved at the explanation. 'So Merlin…?'

'Is good,' he finished. 'He uses his magic for good. Like trying to save us all now.'

'How do I know this?'

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't think of anything to say. He didn't know anything about what had happened to make Arthur realise that Merlin was good. He began to panic, realising that he couldn't give any proof and worried about what that might mean when Merlin got back, but then he remembered his older self's words from earlier.

'The scroll!' he exclaimed, more loudly than he had intended to.

'What?'

'You told me that if you forgot about Merlin I had to make you read the scroll,' he explained, lowering his tone again. 'It's in your jacket.'

He watched the King search his pockets.

'I remember writing this.'

'Don't you remember what it says?' the Prince asked.

'I…I have an impression, but I can't…' he tailed off, but rather than trying to explain, he began reading the document. The Prince wandered around the area they were in -ever keeping a watchful eye on the gorge entrance- but frequently turned back to look at the King. He read the scroll several times over before he put it down. The Prince watched, bemused by the emotions of fear and anger and relief and guilt that passed across the man's face. What had he written? He wanted to ask, but the way the King sat suggested that it was private and personal and, despite being the same person, Arthur didn't want to pry.

When the King finally put the scroll away, he looked less conflicted. He seemed to be steeling himself against all the uncertainties that were clearly plaguing him. Arthur was glad. Seeing his older self unsure and anxious only made him feel the same. After all, if he, as an adult, felt like something wasn't right, then it stood to reason that he, as a child, should be just as nervous. Even with the more positive approach from the King, however, Arthur still retreated back to his shielded spot. The King might now be sure of his Merlin's intentions, but Arthur was less sure about his equivalent Merlin's feelings towards him.

He was about to ask how much longer the King thought they would be when movement from the gorge entrance caught his eye. He took a breath, preparing himself for what he would say to Merlin, but what he saw when he looked back made all thoughts of an apology evaporate into thin air. His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth to shout a warning to the King, but he was cut off by a shout from the man.

'No!' he yelled. And although the words had been directed at Morgana whom he had seen a split second after the Prince, Arthur had the feeling that the words were meant for him. A suspicion that was only confirmed at Morgana's confused look.

'No?' she laughed as the King slowly raised his sword and held it in a defensive stance. His sword was held high, ready for the charge. Arthur recognised the position. He had been taught it a few weeks earlier in training by his sword master and had liked it because he thought it made him look like he was daring anyone to go against him. Obviously he was never going to think any differently. 'As if you have any authority over me,' she continued.

She continued forwards, leaving the shadows of the gorge, and Arthur was barely able to contain a gasp of horror as he saw the dark haired boy, barely alive, being dragged behind her, his wrist enclosed tightly in her hand. In the clearing before, when the body swap had happened, Arthur had been standing far enough away that he didn't get a true impression of what state Merlin was in, but now he could see every detail in the bright morning light. Each sign of starvation and dehydration, the exhaustion that seemed to exude from every part of Merlin's now even tinnier body. If he had looked weak before, now he looked like he would break. Arthur struggled to keep the scene in sight as his vision blurred.

He looked over at the King; he stood strong, unflinching in his determination to face Morgana, but Arthur knew that they were in very serious trouble.

'Why Arthur,' Morgana smiled, her tone quiet, but sure. Her eyes were fixed on the King and suddenly Arthur realised that the only advantage they currently had was that Morgana didn't know he was there. The weight of his responsibility lay heavily on his mind. He was the only card they had to play, but he had no idea what he could do. 'Where's Merlin?' Morgana asked, feigned confusion in her voice. 'I do hope he's alright.'

'Morgana,' the King hissed. 'Where is he?'

'Dead or dying, I would imagine,' she said casually. Arthur saw the King's face tense with fury. He gripped his sword tighter; his lips were pressed together. He was going to go for the charge. Arthur watched the King make a lunge, but he seemed to freeze where he was. Were it not for the panic on his face, Arthur would have assumed he'd made himself stop. 'You know you can't fight me.'

With a sweep of her hand, Morgana sent him hurtling towards the inside rock face of the gorge. His back slammed into it with great force, but instead of falling, he remained pinned there; his legs and arms splayed out on the rock and his sword crashing to the ground.

Arthur felt his own muscles tense in preparation to spring towards the witch, but he looked at the King and saw the man staring straight towards where he was, his head shaking slightly. Arthur relaxed his muscles, but the pounding in his heart only increased. What could they do? Without Merlin they were helpless. She had said he was dead. Did she know for sure or was she just bluffing?

Her back was to him now as she stared at the King. The man seemed to be trying to struggle against the magical grip she held him in, but he barely moved. Merlin, who was still trapped in Morgana's grasp, was sagging heavily to the floor. She hauled him back up onto his feet and he gave a yell as his shoulder was wrenched upwards. Were it not for the extra food and water he had received earlier during the body swap, Arthur doubted that he would have been able to manage it. Once he was on his feet, Morgana pulled him forward and all but threw him against the opposite wall of the gorge, facing the King. She stood in the middle of them: the King on her right, Merlin on her left; both of them powerless to do anything to stop her.

Arthur looked around for anything he could possibly use to hurt her. Could he knock her out if he hit her hard enough across the head? Even if he could, would he be able to reach? She was a lot taller than him. And there was also the small matter of getting to her without being seen. Beside him, he saw a fallen branch. As quietly as he could he picked it up. It was heavy, but he would probably be able to swing it with some force. But when to move? At the moment she wasn't doing anything, just staring at her prisoners. Arthur made a decision. The moment she looked like she was going to seriously hurt one of them he would just run at her. Chances were that it wouldn't work, but either way, he would only have one opportunity. He couldn't waste it by going for her yet. He had to wait for her to be distracted and he was pretty sure that trying to kill someone would distract her.

His hands sweating -the log tightly gripped in them- Arthur moved forward as far as he dared without being seen and sat back on his haunches, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

Up ahead, Morgana had begun pacing. She looked at ease, confident, fearless. She knew that she was close to winning.

'Well here is a turn around,' she began. 'All those years of trying to kill you and Merlin and then having to settle for your younger selves instead, and yet here you are, at my mercy. No protector to help you, no Merlin to get in the way, not anymore. In fact, in the end it was quite simple to set a trap for Emrys.'

'What are you talking about?' the King growled. She laughed at him and moved closer.

'I knew he was coming,' she said, so quietly that Arthur barely heard from his vantage point.

'You're lying. You got lucky.'

'So arrogant.' She shook her head. 'Don't you ever learn, brother?'

If Morgana saw the shock pass across the King's face, she didn't say anything, but Arthur clearly saw the frown of confusion that the man felt at hearing he was related to Morgana. Arthur still couldn't quite belief it himself.

'I know that there is a connection between the two of them,' she continued. 'I was close by and watching when the swap first happened. I saw Merlin change from dying to healthy, saw him looking round, calculating what was going on. I heard him cast a spell to reverse it that was far beyond this pathetic version of Merlin.' She nodded towards the boy leaning against the gorge wall. Arthur thought he just about saw a glare of defiance on the boy's face, but it vanished almost instantly. 'I could sense the difference in Merlin whenever a swap was happening. You two are so predictable. It was only a matter of time before Emrys came looking for the boy, I just made sure I set the trap. He'll be buried under half the gorge by now. A few rocks in the Pass of the Old Kingdom may not have stopped him, but I assure you, he wasn't so lucky this time.'

Arthur felt his hope crumble into dust. That was it then. There really was no more help coming their way. Kilgharrah was close by, perhaps he would come to their rescue, but he wouldn't even know that they were in danger and if Merlin was dead, there would be no-one to let him know. Perhaps young Merlin would be able to contact the creature, but one look at the boy told Arthur that he was too weak. He barely looked like he was awake as it was. His eyes kept on dropping, and he seemed to keep struggling back to full awareness.

'It would have been nice,' Morgana continued musingly, 'to watch your face as Merlin died, but it wasn't possible. I do, however, have a replacement who would perhaps be as good.' She took several steps over to Merlin and crouched down beside him.

'Morgana,' the King called angrily, struggling uselessly once again. 'This is wrong. What you are doing is wrong.' She didn't bother to acknowledge him; instead she reached out a hand towards Merlin. Arthur gripped his branch and prepared to fling himself forward, but the next words stopped him.

'Shall we show Arthur what's new about you and your magic?' she asked him sweetly. He didn't reply, just looked at her, and this time the defiance was evident. Quicker than Arthur could follow, Morgana brought her hand savagely across Merlin's face with a loud slap. The boy's head snapped to the side and he gave a small yell. There was blood trailing down his cheek from where her ring had cut into him. That was all she did before standing up triumphantly and looking back at the King. Arthur didn't understand; what was she trying to say? Why did she look so pleased with herself? He frowned in confusion, but one look at the King's face told him that something significant had just happened because the man looked…afraid…shocked and afraid at what she had done.

'Let's play a game,' she said to him. 'Guess what's different.'

'Morgana!' he yelled. 'Leave him alone.'

From where he crouched, Arthur watched in utter confusion. What had he missed? Whatever it was, it was affecting the King greatly. He struggled even harder, his face going red and his hands fisting against the wall.

'Shhh,' Morgana said, laying a calming hand on his knee. 'There's no point.'

'What do you want?'

'You're far past the point of being able to deliver what I want,' she hissed, anger flaring through her for an instant before it subsided. 'Do you remember the first time Merlin saved your life?' she continued.

Arthur knew that the King wouldn't. He barely had any memories left and he was sure that wasn't one of the remaining few. Morgana evidently took the man's silence as defiance, rather than an indication that he really didn't have a clue how Merlin had saved his life the first time.

'I do,' she told him. 'I remember watching the witch use her last breath to fling that knife at you, only to have Merlin pull you clear. How much easier everything would have been if had he been slower. I would be queen by now and you would be a distant memory, a forgotten Prince.' She moved closer. 'Tell me, is that better or worse than no-one ever knowing you existed?'

'Stop this,' Arthur hissed at her.

'No,' she laughed. 'I will hunt down Prince Arthur after you're dead, but for now you will watch Merlin die, even if it is as a child. And how fitting it would be to give him the death that he saved you from all those years ago.'

Arthur saw the knife at her side in an instant. No logical thought entered his head, no plan of using the branch, or of knocking Morgana out of the way. All he knew was that he had left Merlin to Morgana once before and it was the decision he regretted more than anything else he'd ever done in his life. He also knew that currently Merlin hated him and thought he was a cowardly, selfish, spoilt child. The thought of the boy dying and not knowing how much Arthur had been changed by meeting him; the thought of not being able to say the words of apology that he'd been going through for the past day was unacceptable.

Merlin couldn't die. He had seen the impact the boy would have on his life, on his entire future. He had seen how much his future self depended on Merlin and vice versa. He had seen the friendship and the trust between them and he couldn't bear the thought of living his life without those things.

And so, before he really knew how he got there, he found himself in front of Merlin, his body shielding him, while Morgana's knife flew straight at his back. In the split second he had to register the choice he had made, he realised that he didn't regret it.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	28. Chapter 28

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for the reviews! Let me know what you think of this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28<strong>

Pressure. Crushing and unbearable pressure. Merlin could feel his whole body shaking with the effort of keeping the rock fall from overwhelming him, but he knew he was loosing the battle. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that somehow he had to find a way of surviving and getting back to Arthur. He barely remembered who the man was; all he did know was that everything in him wanted to protect him. He didn't really understand why anymore, but it didn't matter. He knew from the last few days, that he was the King's unspoken protector and closest friend, which meant that being crushed to death under the remains of the gorge wasn't an option.

Merlin tried to clear his thoughts to work out what he could do, but his head was throbbing from the impact against the rock wall and he was finding it difficult to focus, especially while having to concentrate on keeping the rocks levitated.

He considered his options. He couldn't get back through the tunnels. The rock fall had blocked all exits. He closed his eyes, trying to think; there had to be something. But it wasn't until he opened them again that he saw the slightest glimmer of hope. And it was a glimmer. Up above, through the cracks that existed between the build up of debris, Merlin could see bright shards of sunlight. Sunlight that he hadn't been able to see before. Yes, there had been a little illumination, but it had been dull light, cut off by the way the walls of the gorge narrowed and folded at the top.

That was it. A way out that hadn't been there before. In bringing down the gorge on top of him, Morgana had created an escape route. If he could reach it, that was. But surely that was possible. The amount of rubble that was currently pressing down on him, making him feel like he was in a vice-like shadow, would be enough to scale the gorge and climb out if it was underneath him. Controlling the rubble to ensure that it didn't crush him, however, was going to be hard, especially in his current state. He couldn't be sure, but he was fairly certain that he had broken his ankle and as for his chest, he wasn't ruling out the possibility that he had cracked some ribs when he fell earlier.

He ignored those things. They were small and meaningless compared to what would happen if he failed to get back to Arthur and protect him. Camelot's entire history and future, along with his and his three companions', was in danger.

Taking several deep breaths, Merlin managed to block out the pain and the pressure for long enough to form a plan. At the moment, his magic was distributed throughout the gorge, a few metres around him in every direction and then right up to the top. He hadn't bothered to try and hold up the rocks further away from him, knowing that they would have been too much in his current state. He had had no choice but to let them fall and block the exits. Keeping the closer rocks aloft, however, had been survival instinct. They floated above him and around him, their weight spread out evenly on his magic. He realised, however, that if he wanted to get out, he would have to change tactics.

The thought of what he was about to do made him close his eyes for several seconds to try and calm himself, but he didn't really have the luxury of time and so, sooner than he would have liked, he began his escape attempt.

Slowly, and as carefully as he could, Merlin sat up. The rocks above him moved up slightly, filling in the few remaining gaps, while the layers above them compressed as well. The draw on his magic didn't change that much, but he knew that wouldn't last for long. Achingly slowly, keeping his magic in mind at all moments, Merlin managed to get to his knees. His ankle and ribs twinged painfully, but not enough to distract him from the task of keeping the rocks in place. Again the layers above him compressed and now he began to feel the weight and pressure of them even more powerfully in his magic as the layers began to build on top of one another.

The final part was to stand. Just the thought of it sent sweat beading down Merlin's forehead, but he pushed on, knowing he had no choice. He put weight on his good ankle first and slowly, just about managing to keep his balance, he pushed himself up to full height, the rocks moving upwards once more. Gingerly, he put his bad ankle to the floor, hardly letting it bear any weight. Pain spiked through it, but he could stand on it. Maybe it wasn't broken after all. He didn't dare to hope on that and instead refocused.

All around him, he could feel his magic shuddering; trembling at how much it was having to endure by keeping the rocks in place. Merlin couldn't remember if he'd ever used his magic so strongly, but either way, this did not feel natural. It felt like his entire being was ready to snap at any moment; not just physically, but also magically. He shook his head; this was not the time for reflection.

He didn't allow himself to relish his victory in standing up, knowing that the next part would be even more difficult. He was planning on pulling his magic back to himself to form a shield just around his body, protecting him from the rocks, rather than using the magical field that was currently keeping them at bay. The formation of the shield wasn't difficult; keeping it sturdy against the rocks when they were all piled up on top of one another, on the other hand, was.

He began slowly, forming a thin shield around the edge of the magical field and then slowly allowing the excess magic to fuse with it, strengthening it as it moved down. The shield, growing stronger every moment due to the magical infusion, allowed Merlin to hold back the rocks as they once again tried to fall to the ground now that the magical field was gone. At first the weight wasn't too bad, but as the magical field shrank further back and the amount of rocks resting on the shield became greater, Merlin began to buckle. Nevertheless he carried on. He could feel blood running down his face, from where his nose had begun to bleed under the pressure, but he continued, spurred on by something much greater than his own magical abilities and strength. It was sheer will power that allowed him to continue collapsing the field as tons of rocks pressed down on him, vying for the best position to crush him.

Eventually the shield was only a few inches from every surface of his body. The darkness was complete as the rocks piled together around him. It pushed into his shield at every point, threatening to obliterate him at any moment, but he continued, his awareness of the situation seemingly diminished as all his focus began to centre on keeping back the terrible tide of rock and death.

The last stage. Slowly, so as not to compromise his shield at any point, Merlin lifted his good ankle off the floor. His concentration was so intense that the pain in his injured one barely registered. All his focus was on the rocks that filled in the gap where his foot and leg had been. He heard and felt them rearranging themselves below his foot as his knee forced its way into a space that had been occupied by debris. Sure enough, seconds later when he lowered his foot, he connected with a new surface on which to stand. Cautiously, he pushed himself up on that leg, feeling the resistance at the top of the shield as he began to push against the rocks above him. He pressed on; his teeth gritted and fists clenched, until eventually his leg was completely straight. Again the rocks moved to accommodate the new gaps that had been created and escape from the push of the shield. Soon his other leg found purchase.

And so it continued. The achingly slow process of inching his way upwards, using his shield as protection and the rocks as his lift to the top. It was barely noticeable at first, but soon he became aware of the pressure lessening as he moved closer to the top. As more and more rocks found themselves below him, his body stopped trembling and his magical power was less brittle. The pain in his ankle became more evident as his focus was redistributed to the rest of the world, making it hard for him to make the last few pushes, but he made it and eventually broke through into the sunlight and pulled himself free.

Once out, Merlin felt his shield die away and then felt himself tumbling to the ground. He managed to steady himself, thus avoiding further injury, and simply lay on the top of the rocks. He barely noticed the rubble digging into him. All he was aware of was the way his chest heaved -each breath sending pain spiking through him- and the truly surreal sensation of feeling like he was floating, that if he just jumped into the air he would fly off, lighter than a wisp of cloud. It sent a somewhat euphoric rush through his body, lightening the pain of all his injuries and making his thoughts flow in and out of one another like water. But one thought still managed to break through the haze vividly.

Arthur.

Merlin sat up instantly as he recognised the significance of the word. That was why he was here, that was why he had fought his way through the crushed remains of the gorge. Morgana was going after Arthur and the Prince and his young self and if that happened…

He got to his feet, falling as he put too much weight on his ankle. That wouldn't do. He had to be quick. He looked around. He was currently sprawled on top of the rubble he'd just climbed through. On either side, where the gorge top had used to be, there was a jagged incline of destroyed gorge walls. They extended up on a diagonal slope for maybe two or three metres before the ground levelled off to where there were grasses and trees growing.

Quickly, with the currently drained magic that resided in him, Merlin cast a few spells on himself to numb the pain in his chest and ankle and then scrambled across the rocks and up the steep incline. He cut his hands, arms and legs several times as he dragged himself towards the top of the gorge, but eventually found himself on the grass. The softness of it was a welcome relief, but he gave himself little time to revel in it. Instead, he looked around and located several pieces of thin, strong wood from fallen branches. He called them over to himself with a flash of his eyes and then tore strips of material from his shirt. Using magic to hold the twigs in place around his ankle, he tied them tightly with the tatters of his shirt, creating a rudimentary, but effective, splint. He stood up. It still hurt, but the splint, on top of the numbing magic, made it so that he could walk, and hopefully run, with a pronounced limp. It would have to do.

Merlin looked around and calculated where the gorge entrance and Arthur were. Without another second's hesitation, he took off in that direction, running and limping across the top of the gorge, knowing that only he could save everyone.

* * *

><p>Arthur watched in horror as his young self threw himself in front of Merlin and the knife that was heading towards the boy. For a split second he forgot about the protection that the Prince had, but as the knife reached him, perilously close to where his heart and lungs were, Arthur saw the flash of blue light and a shimmer pass across the surface of the boy's body.<p>

Only then did Arthur allow himself to close his eyes, just for a moment, in relief. Of course, he remembered that part; remembered Merlin saying that the protection that had been on the two of them had been transferred to the boys. In fact, the Prince was in no danger whatsoever from Morgana; she wouldn't be able to hurt him. But then she _had_ found a way around the shields of the dark haired boy who was currently obscured from view behind the Prince's body.

Arthur shook his head. He didn't have time to think about those things. Yes, the Prince might be safe, but Arthur and Merlin were as much at Morgana's mercy as they had ever been. How long could she be stalled before she tried something again?

Not long as it turned out. She let out a cry of rage at her failed attempt and stormed over towards the Prince. He didn't look too concerned by the furious witch who was in front of him; in fact, he barely seemed to notice she was there. A look of intense confusion was on his face. He stared at the knife on the ground, where it had landed several metres away, and then looked down at his own body. Reaching his hand up to his back, the boy felt the spot where the knife should have hit. Finding nothing he looked at Merlin, but he was focussed on Morgana's approach. Finally, after checking those places once more, the Prince looked up at Arthur, searching for answers.

And then Arthur understood. The revelation of the knowledge sent a flare of pride running through him, while at the same time humbling him. He looked at his younger self and saw a glimpse of the King they both wanted to be once again. The Prince hadn't known about the shield. Arthur thought back over the last few days; as his only remaining memories, they were easy to call to mind. He knew that Merlin had mentioned to _his_ young self about the transferral of the wards, but it had been decided that the Prince would only react badly to the information and so he had been left in the dark. Had there been any other time when the shields had been mentioned? During the first body swap they had been, but at that point the Prince had been so guilt-ridden that Arthur doubted he even heard the words. He had jumped in front of the knife to protect Merlin, truly believing that the weapon would either injure or kill him.

From the point of view of keeping the two Arthurs alive it had been an utterly reckless and stupid plan, from the point of view of demonstrating just how much the Prince had come to understand Merlin's importance in his future, it was the only possible plan. Suddenly Arthur yearned to remember what his relationship with Merlin had been like. How important must their friendship be if the Prince had taken such a risk to try and emulate it? For that was what he had done, of that Arthur was sure. Something inside him told him that he would quite happily lay down his life to protect Merlin and he knew that Merlin would do the same for him. The account that he had read from the scroll, written in his own hand, had affirmed that.

But Arthur had little time to reminisce over what his life might have been like. Morgana had reached the Prince and was picking him up. The shield evidently didn't stop her from being able to do that.

'Don't think you can stop me,' she hissed in the boy's face, but the Prince didn't look the least bit concerned. He evidently didn't understand what the shield was, but he more than realised the protection it offered him.

'It doesn't look like you can stop me though,' he told her, the smallest smug smile creeping onto his face. She threw him down on the floor, but he was uninjured by the impact, instead he sprang back to his feet and made a leap for the knife that had rebounded off the shield. By that time, Morgana had turned to face Merlin once again. Arthur struggled against the invisible force that was keeping him captive, but it was useless. He couldn't do anything to stop Morgana, but his younger self had no such problems. As Morgana raised her hands, evidently deciding that it would be quicker to finish off Merlin with magic, rather than fight Arthur for the knife, the Prince dashed in front of the boy once again, holding out the knife, ready to attack.

She laughed at him.

'I may not be able to touch you, but your weapon on the other hand…' She flicked her wrist and the knife skittered across the floor once again. The Prince stared at her furiously.

'Leave him alone!' he yelled at her.

'He will die, as will you.'

'I won't move away from him and you can't get past me.'

Arthur highly doubted that. Morgana had just demonstrated that, while she couldn't harm the boy, she could quite easily move him out of the way. No matter how hard he fought against her, there was no denying that she was a lot stronger than him. With a smirk, she moved back and picked up Arthur's sword from where it lay on the ground, her eyes never leaving the Prince's. The boy tensed, readying himself for a fight, but Arthur couldn't understand the move. Why bother picking up the sword at all? Aside from maybe moving the Prince out of the way if his instincts overrode his memory of the shield, the weapon would be useless.

'It doesn't matter if you won't move,' she began, her voice quiet. 'Have you forgotten? It isn't really you two I want to kill.'

Understanding sliced through Arthur a second before his own sword did the same thing. He saw Morgana turn and direct the sword forward with magic and didn't even have time to yell as it bit into his chest. The Prince on the other hand had all the time and regret he needed to cry out.

'No!'

Even Merlin's weak voice could be heard, mixing with the Prince's.

Arthur took several deep breaths, waiting for the pain to explode through his chest, for the blood to begin pouring from the fatal wound, but after several seconds he frowned and looked down. Yes, it hurt, but no, it wasn't agony. More like a minor battle wound that was irritating, but by no means debilitating.

He focused on the sword and realised that the tip had barely pierced him. It looked like it was no more than a few millimetres into his chest, if that. Eyes narrowed in confusion, he looked up at Morgana, wondering if she meant to kill him slowly, easing the sword in while she watched him die. But the expression on her face was one of confused fury. Their eyes met across the short distance and for a split second he thought he saw something familiar in them and then she was flying across the ground towards the trees and Arthur was falling. He just remembered to bend his knees in time, managing to avoid breaking his legs. His sword clattered noisily on the floor in front of him.

He stood there, somewhat dazed for several seconds, but his instincts soon kicked in. He grabbed and sheathed Excalibur –it would be useless against Morgana- and then rushed over to the boys.

'What happened? What happened?' the Prince was asking.

'Take a guess,' he replied with a grin. As quickly as he could, he scooped Merlin up -who was like a dead weight at first, but then made an attempt to wrap his arms more firmly around Arthur's neck- and then looked frantically around. It didn't take him long to spot the person he was looking for. Up on top of the gorge entrance, his hand outstretched, his back straight, was Merlin. Arthur's initial relief at seeing the man quickly turned into alarm as he saw the state of him. He was deathly pale and covered in blood. He began to sway on his feet, but then flinched and focussed on Arthur.

'Arthur,' he called, indicating that he should come up as well. Arthur glanced behind to see Morgana back on her feet, her face boiling with anger. She raised her hand towards him, but a blast of power from on top of the gorge held her in place and pushed her backwards.

'Come on, go!' he shouted to the Prince.

'You first,' he insisted, 'she can't injure me.'

Arthur didn't argue with his logic and raced around the side of the gorge for several metres and then began the very steep climb up towards Merlin, which was made even more difficult by the boy who was barely managing to hold onto him. Behind them, the Prince was focussed and calm.

It didn't take long to reach Merlin and he looked even worse close up. His breathing seemed irregular, there were cuts all over his body and his head was bleeding profusely at the back. He looked ready to keel over.

'We need to get out of here, Merlin,' Arthur told him.

'She'll only follow us. You go, I can hold her off.'

'Merlin, we are not going without you.'

'You have-'

'Just call Kilgharrah,' the Prince interrupted, looking urgently at Merlin. 'He can help with Morgana can't he?'

'Get behind me!' Merlin shouted before the Prince could carry on.

'But-' he began, but Arthur understood Merlin's order. Morgana was moving forwards, her hands out, her eyes glowing. All around them the wind whipped up and Arthur looked up to see storm clouds gathering just above them, sparking with lightning. Merlin sent what looked like a jet pure energy hurtling towards Morgana. The clouds dissipated slightly, but not for long.

'You have to call Kilgharrah,' the Prince insisted.

'And how is he supposed to do that?' Arthur asked; he's half a mile away.

'No,' came a small voice by his ear. He looked at the dark haired boy in his arms. 'He can call him; I've seen it. He's a Dragon Lord. Kilgharrah has to come if he asks.'

Arthur looked at Merlin in shock, but the man looked equally perplexed by the knowledge; he frowned, evidently trying to remember something…anything. For a split second his focus faded, but a strike of lightning very close to them snapped him back to clarity.

'How do I do it?' he asked hurriedly, keeping Morgana at bay once again.

'You just looked up and shouted,' Merlin explained. 'Your voice went funny.'

Merlin looked at Arthur, tired and weary. 'I'll try. I remember doing it before, but if it doesn't work I can't last much longer.'

Arthur nodded at him, trying to convey his gratitude for everything he had done. What must he have been through in the past hour or so to get to the point where he was so exhausted? Arthur had read how he had taken on the darkness that invaded Camelot. That had taken power beyond anything that was being displayed today. This should have been an easy battle, or at least a winnable one, but Merlin seemed to be weakening before his eyes. It filled him with dread. He had little time to dwell on it however; a moment later, Merlin's voice rang out loud and clear, calling into the air; a desperate cry for help.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	29. Chapter 29

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for the reviews! We are heading towards the end now. I reckon maybe three or four more chapters, but, as I said before, I really can't say for sure. Anyway, please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29<strong>

Merlin clung onto the King tightly, watching his older self shout for Kilgharrah. It didn't sound exactly like he remembered when he'd heard the call in the clearing, but it felt close enough; like a familiar hum in his chest. They all looked expectantly into the sky and then suddenly his older self shouted a warning. His hands flew up in the air, conjuring some sort of shield into life just as several of Morgana's lightning strikes flashed towards them; he cried out, desperation in his voice. The shield, however, seemed to withstand the strikes, but Merlin felt the whole of the ground begin to buckle under the pressure.

Merlin felt the King's arms around him loosen slightly and then tighten suddenly as the ground lurched under their feet, finally succumbing to the force of the lightning strikes. The lip of the gorge, the place where they were all standing, began to crumble. Merlin didn't have time to even begin to think of what they could do, but the King was quicker. Merlin felt himself being flung through the air towards more sturdy ground, saw the King doing the same to Prince Arthur and then watched as the man finally grabbed his friend and hauled them away from the edge. Just before he hit the floor, Merlin saw the ground where they had been standing plummet into the river far below.

He hit the ground hard; attempting to use his hands to steady himself, but they buckled uselessly underneath him. A split second later he felt the coarse grass and the sharp pieces of grit which littered the ground scratch across his face and he closed his eyes, worried that he would damage them. It took several seconds for the ground to stop trembling beneath them as the gorge rock cover adjusted to its new shape and weight. For a terrible moment, Merlin thought that maybe the whole of the hillside would collapse into the river and all he would feel was pain, panic and then nothingness. But then everything was still again and he heard the King shouting. With effort, Merlin rolled onto his back, lifted his head and took in the scene.

Morgana was where she had been before –down by the tree line, far below them- her expression one of victory. One glance at his older self told him why. The man lay on the ground, his eyes sluggishly looking around; his body barely moving. The King was at his side, calling his name and urging him into action, but he was exhausted, unable to go on; the shield had been his last stand. If there was any energy left in him, Merlin knew the warlock would be protecting them.

He looked over at the Prince Arthur, who was only a metre or so away from him. The boy had pushed himself back into a sitting position, his focus entirely fixed on the two men.

'Merlin!' the King was saying, an unmistakable edge of panic in his voice. 'Get up,' he told him firmly. 'Now!' The sorcerer made an attempt to do as he was told and the King quickly moved to wrap an arm around his back. But it was useless. His strength was spent and both he and Arthur sank back to the floor, the King having been unprepared to take the entirety of his friend's weight and unwilling to accept that he would have to.

'I'm sorry,' Merlin heard his older self whisper to the King. 'I'm really sorry Arthur.' It was final. Clear. Resigned. Merlin couldn't look; he couldn't watch, so he turned away, only to find the Prince looking at him. His face was pale and his eyes were strangely bright. He inched closer to Merlin, stopping an arm's length from him. He took a breath.

And suddenly Merlin realised what he was going to say. Knew that the same words that had just spilled from his counterpart's mouth were about to leave the Prince's. And, he realised, he didn't want to hear them.

He had been so angry with the Prince; had even hated him for some time back in the cave, but then the boy had jumped in front of a knife to protect him and it had been undeniably clear the he had believed it was going to kill him. Merlin hadn't known what to think, and then Morgana had been there again and everything had spun further out of control.

And now here they were; all four of them. Two versions of two people; separated by time and life and understanding, but still here in the same place, facing the same thing, and -so it seemed- experiencing the same desperation to put things right and say what needed to be said: his older self to tell his friend and King that he would have protected them all if he could, and the Prince to let Merlin know just how much he regretted what he had done in leaving him at Morgana's mercy. Things needed to be at peace before they all died. For that was what was about to happen. He could see Morgana out of the corner of his eye, far away down the hill, preparing her final strike -whatever it would be- wanting to enjoy and cherish the moment.

'I'm-' the Prince began, but Merlin shook his head.

'It doesn't matter.'

'But-'

'Arthur,' Merlin continued, smiling at the blond haired boy, 'it doesn't matter. You saved my life.'

'But that isn't good enough if we're about to die,' he replied, anguish cutting through his tone.

'We're not just yet,' he said firmly, 'I want to fight for a bit, if I can.'

With that, Merlin struggled to his feet, helped the last few inches by the Prince who jumped up quickly, evidently confused at what he was doing, but wanting to do what he could. Merlin felt the boy's arm slip around his waist and hold him upright, while the other hand gripped the one that Merlin had slung over his shoulder.

'I just need to get a bit closer,' Merlin told him. They struggled forward until Merlin could see the entrance to the gorge. Looking down, he spotted a few bits of rock that had fallen onto the ground there rather than plummeting the rest of the way into the river. At Merlin's instruction, Arthur lowered him to the ground and took up sentry beside him. Glancing over at Morgana, Merlin saw her watching them with an amused expression. She extended her hand and sent a strike of magical power towards them, but the Prince jumped in front and absorbed it, as Merlin had known he would.

Concentrating on the rubble instead, leaving Arthur to defend him, Merlin focussed on his task. The plan, he knew, was doomed to fail. There was no way that he would be able to cause any sort of damage to Morgana, but all he needed was a bit more time. Just a minute; maybe even less than that.

Because his older self's call to Kilgharrah had not gone unnoticed. Merlin could sense, somehow, that the creature was hurtling towards them as fast as his wings would allow him. In the distance in the sky, a black dot was quickly becoming bigger and clearer; hidden from Morgana by the trees, but perfectly visible to himself and the Prince from their higher vantage point.

With what little magical strength he could muster, Merlin picked up one of the boulders that lay on the ground and flung it at Morgana. He couldn't deny that it was a pitiful attempt. The boulder was no bigger than his head and flew at Morgana so slowly that only a flick of her wrist was needed to shatter it into a thousand pieces, metres from where she stood. Above them, the magical storm had lessened considerably as Morgana enjoyed playing with her victims.

'My, my,' she crooned, 'the little Prince and the little warlock are trying to play grown up.'

'We will beat you!' the Prince shouted back. She laughed and sent a strike towards the ground by their feet. Dirt sprayed towards them. Arthur blocked the majority of it, but some slipped around him and caught Merlin's arms; compared to the effects of his starvation, however, the impacts were barely noticeable.

Merlin tried again, sending several rocks towards her, but each one shattered further and further from her, until at last she seemed to tire of the game and just disintegrated any remaining rubble into fine dust where it lay. Merlin glanced behind them; the King was still trying to keep his friend awake. Part of his focus was on the exchange between Morgana and the boys, but Merlin knew he had picked up on their plan because his eyes flitted frequently to the sky.

'Enough,' Morgana called; her tone had lost its amusement. It was as cold and emotionless as Merlin remembered it being during his captivity. 'You can not beat me. What do you hope to achieve with your childish tricks?'

'Just a little bit of time,' Merlin called back to her, his voice dry and croaky.

'For what purpose?' she sneered.

'This one!' the Prince shouted.

Kilgharrah's roar echoed all around them, almost making the ground tremble as much as Morgana's spell had, but the land beneath them held firm.

Merlin watched with fascinated awe as Kilgharrah climbed high into the air and then dived towards Morgana. Her face flicked from disbelief to fear in less than a second and the storm above them vanished completely as her focus changed to the dragon that was rapidly approaching her. She raised both her hands towards him, preparing to attach with her magic, but before she could, an intense burst of flames issued from the creature's throat.

They enveloped her instantly, like a waterfall of fire and blood cascading onto her. Inside, Merlin could see her dark outline, could see her upraised hands and the thin shimmer of magic around her that was protecting her from the intense heat. The flames disappeared suddenly as Kilgharrah climbed once again. It seemed to take several seconds for Morgana to realise that she was no longer being consumed, but by the time she had moved to try and counter the force of the flames, Kilgharrah was diving again; wrath and fury spewing from his mouth and consuming her.

This time, Merlin saw her dark silhouette begin to crouch, and when she was given another brief respite, she made no effort to counter, but instead tried to flee. Black twists of smoke began to clothe her and Merlin sensed that she was going to try and transport herself to somewhere far away. But Kilgharrah was relentless. He landed with a shuddering boom and released another spray of fire. Her spell was cut off and this time the flames didn't relent. Behind where she stood, the trees began to blossom with violent red leaves, while she began to shrink under the dragon's onslaught.

Maybe it was because her magic still wasn't at its full potential; maybe it was because his older self's attacks had actually injured her in some way or maybe it was because she had been taken by surprise. Whatever the reason, it was evident that they no longer had anything to fear from her. They knew it, Kilgharrah knew it, and the desperation of her crouched silhouette told him that Morgana knew it as well.

Merlin looked away. He could see her shield failing, could just about hear her screams through the roar of the flames. He looked at the Prince instead, but the boy had given up on watching the attack seconds before. He had sunk down next to Merlin, his knees tucked to his chest, his forehead pressed against them and his hands covering his ears. It was only then that Merlin remembered that for the Prince, Morgana was a friend and, as they had found out in the last few days, his sister. Merlin looked behind at the King, but he didn't seem as moved by the horrific end that she was facing. He didn't remember her as anything other than the enemy.

That seemed wrong to Merlin somehow, although he knew it wasn't the King's fault. He turned back to the Prince and put an arm around the boy's shoulder. The next time he looked up, the only flames left were those that were ripping through the trees. Where Morgana had been there was nothing but black ash that was quickly being scattered into the air and out of sight by the wind.

* * *

><p>Arthur shook Merlin's shoulders again, willing the man to wake up and say something…anything. But he remained still, his breathing shallow and his face turning a frightening grey colour.<p>

'Kilgharrah!' he yelled. He looked down the hill to where the dragon was now standing, Morgana having been killed. Arthur knew he was meant to feel something other than relief at her death, but he couldn't remember what it was and right now he didn't care. Looking at Prince Arthur, he knew that the boy was feeling it for him. The boys were sat next to each other: Arthur upset and shocked, Merlin doing all he could to offer comfort: an arm around the Prince's shoulder. They looked, for all the world, like children who had grown up together, been friends together and knew and loved each other.

Arthur looked down at the man who was supposed to be his closest and most loyal friend and felt the sadness of his missing memories consume him like a physical grief. He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember Merlin or anything about him other than what he knew from the last few days.

If he…if he died now, even if they miraculously managed to get the boys back home without him, Arthur would forever have to live with the knowledge that at the moment Merlin left this world, neither of them would have any recollection of who the other truly was. It was almost too terrible to think about and so he didn't. Instead, he got to his feet and, with effort, managed to pick Merlin up. He turned to take him down towards the tree line; he doubted the gorge could take the weight of a dragon after the battering it had just taken.

'Merlin, Arthur,' he said as he stumbled past them. He indicated that they should follow. The Prince got up and helped Merlin, who looked as weak as ever. Together, the two of them made their way down the hill towards Kilgharrah. Arthur didn't bother checking on them; they'd be fine together.

Breathing heavily, Arthur finally reached Kilgharrah and set Merlin down at his feet. The great creature lowered his enormous head, his scales like polished metal. Arthur could still feel the heat radiating off him from the attack he had just unleashed.

'What can you do for him?' Arthur asked.

'He is gravely injured.'

'I know that,' Arthur snapped. 'What can you do for him?'

If Kilgharrah was offended by his tone, he didn't say anything and that, more than anything, convinced Arthur that things looked very, very bad for Merlin.

'Anything, please,' he began again. 'Once we get him back to Camelot a physician will look after him. I just need you to help him survive the trip.

'My magic is not so straightforward as to be able to heal.'

'Then just stop the injuries from worsening. Please, Kilgharrah.'

'I will do what I can.' Arthur closed his eyes briefly and then stepped back, allowing the dragon to work. He moved even closer to Merlin's form and then breathed onto him, moving up and down the length of Merlin's broken frame. The air seemed to shimmer and haze as he did.

Once it was done, Kilgharrah beckoned all of them back over.

'I have done what I can, but you must also treat the wounds.'

Arthur nodded and set to searching through the bags that were still packed onto Kilgharrah's back. Most were spell books and food, but there were some bandages and healing salves as well.

In silence the three of them began to tend to Merlin's wounds until it became obvious that it wasn't just one Merlin who was in dire need of medical attention. The dark haired boy quickly seemed to deteriorate as they worked. The Prince's alarmed cry was what brought it to Arthur's attention. He looked at the Prince and an unspoken agreement passed between them.

So while Arthur tended Merlin's wounds, the Prince did the same for his Merlin. They worked in silence, communicating only through gestures and nods when they needed to use some of the supplies. While the Prince got some water and food into the dark haired boy and gently cleaned and treated the cut on the boy's face from Morgana's ring, Arthur saw to Merlin. His task was more arduous. The injury on Merlin's head was still bleeding heavily and Arthur made little attempt to wash it, knowing that stopping the bleeding was more important. And so he bandaged his head tightly, stuffing extra padding on top of the gash to try and stem the tide of blood. That done, he moved onto the man's ankle, which was horrible swollen and bruised. There was a make shift splint around it that looked as good as any Arthur could have made and so he simply strengthened and neatened it, knowing that he could do little else. After that, a quick inspection of Merlin's torso showed Arthur a deep purple bruise forming across the man's chest. It stretched from one side to the other and, frighteningly, seemed to incorporate several of Merlin's ribs. Arthur gently felt along them, but he was no expert. He had no idea whether or not they were broken. To be on the safe side, he used the last of the bandages to bind them. With those things done, Arthur quickly cleaned and put salve on the dozens of smaller scrapes and cuts that Merlin had acquired.

He had thought he might feel some small amount of relief with the job finished and Merlin as aided as he could be, but he didn't. Merlin had not moved or made a sound through the entire thing. Looking over towards the boys, Arthur watched as the Prince gently and encouragingly continued to offer Merlin food and water. The boy took it thankfully and seemed to rally somewhat; enough to walk over to Kilgharrah mostly unaided when Arthur indicated that they needed to go. With the Prince's help, and Kilgharrah lying as low to the floor as he possibly could, they managed to load an unconscious Merlin onto the dragon's back. Arthur then tied him very securely to one of Kilgharrah's neck spikes using some rope that had been in the supply packs, trying not to bind his chest too tightly in case he woke up and injured his ribs further by moving.

All that was left was to help the boys onto Kilgharrah's back. The Prince needed little help, but Merlin struggled immensely and, just to be safe, Arthur secured both of them in position as well not wanting to watch either of them plummet towards the ground, not when they were both so close to getting back home. If only Merlin would wake up. Arthur finally took his place on Kilgharrah's back. As the dragon leapt into the air, Arthur had the terrible feeling that after everything they had been through, they were still a long way from putting everything back to the way it should be.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	30. Chapter 30

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter; I'm not completely sure about it, but I suppose that's for you lot to judge! Please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30<strong>

Flames and screaming and pain; so much pain. And not just hers. Arthur opened his eyes to try and dispel the image of Morgana in her final moments, but as they flew back to the clearing, the monotony of the grey sky did nothing to reform the image into something that Arthur could bear to watch. He knew her. Only a few days ago he had played in the castle with her. She had watched as he showed her what he had learnt in his sparring lesson and then asked him to teach her the moves. He had refused at first saying that she was a girl, but she had promised that if he helped her she would show him a hidden room that she had found close to her own. He had had such a good time with her; they had chased around the castle, knocking into the servants and winding in and out of the guards.

And now she was dead; scattered to ashes; nothing left of her except the memories of all the evil she had done and the treachery she had committed. How could Arthur go back to her now, how could he ever look at her again? But then, he wouldn't have to would he. The King had said that their memories were being erased and, for the first time, Arthur wanted to forget. Despite all that he had learnt and all that he had discovered, he never wanted to have to look at Morgana and see the terrifying woman who had been filled with such darkness. He couldn't be around her for the next however many years knowing what end awaited her.

He would let Merlin perform the spell, let him take away the memories; they would destroy him if not. But what if the sorcerer wasn't strong enough to cast the enchantment? Arthur glanced behind him to where the two men were seated on the dragon. He wanted to ask the King how Merlin was; wanted the man to reassure him that everything would be alright now, but he didn't want to break into the King's thoughts. Not when he sat so pensively; ever watchful over Merlin, looking more and more worried as the time passed by.

And so instead Arthur focussed on his own Merlin. In contrast to his counterpart, the boy seemed to be getting stronger. He had continued to eat and drink small amounts that Arthur had insisted he take and he was beginning to look a little healthier. His skin took on a slightly less grey tone and he had begun to relax. After a few hours, he began to drift into sleep and only then did Arthur allow himself to relax as well. It was a strange feeling to him: to be concerned so intensely by the well being of another person, but somehow Merlin seemed to be able to push through all of Arthur's selfishness. It was hard to understand or explain and he frequently found himself trying to put words to his feelings. In the end, the closest he could come up with was that, despite how different they were, they were also the same, or at least part of the same thing, whatever that was. He was beginning to understand how it would be possible, in the future, for him to build the relationship with Merlin that he had seen between their two older selves since his arrival in this version of Camelot.

Or at least the bond that he had seen at first. Now, it was different. Now, the dark haired man barely moved, while the King kept a vigil over him; the tension on the man's face told Arthur that the relationship he had come to admire so much no longer existed. All that was left was his older self's desperate attempt to hold on to what he knew had been there before. It made Arthur feel sad and alone and fearful. He didn't want that for the King.

He glanced at the boy who was asleep in front of him.

'I really am sorry,' he whispered, finally uttering the words that had been chasing round his mind for days. To Arthur's surprise, Merlin stirred. Blue eyes fixed on him after a few moments of trying to focus.

'I told you it doesn't matter,' the boy whispered sleepily, barely aware.

'It does to me.'

'Does this mean we're friends?' Merlin asked him, a strange but welcome affection in his voice that Arthur found he liked.

'Yes,' he replied quietly.

* * *

><p>The clearing appeared as the daylight faded. Arthur felt a potent mix of relief and dread fill him: relief that they were now so close to putting everything right and dread that they were already too late. He had watched Merlin constantly during the flight back, but the man had shown no improvement. If anything, he was getting worse; his breathing was shallow and he had begun to mutter and mumble in his fitful state of waking and sleeping. Arthur couldn't see how he would be lucid enough to cast the spell required to send the boys back to where they had come from.<p>

Kilgharrah landed lightly, or what Arthur assumed passed for lightly to a dragon, but the four of them found themselves jolted to a halt and Merlin groaned in pain. Arthur began to untie the restraints that he'd placed around himself and Merlin, while the Prince did the same. It didn't take the two boys long to get down and Arthur was relieved to see that young Merlin was strong enough to do so with very little help; the Prince had been plying him with food for the majority of the journey and it seemed to have paid off. If only the same could be said for his counterpart.

Noise from around the clearing drew Arthur's attention as he struggled with the knots which he had tied so securely. Looking up, he spotted several knights and an older man who looked like a civilian. He didn't recognise any of them, but he guessed that they were here for him. Hadn't he asked the knight who was with them before to get help? He couldn't remember; with Morgana gone, even his memories of the last week were beginning to get slightly hazy. They had to be quick.

'Gaius!' he heard the Prince shout. A moment later, the boy was racing across the grass to the older man, talking him to him quickly and urgently. The pace of the group increased further and by the time Arthur had undone the last rope holding Merlin in place, several pairs of hands were reaching up to help carry the man down to the floor. The soldiers seemed somewhat wary of Kilgharrah, but their rush to help Merlin seemed to override their fear. Within seconds, Merlin was laid out on the grass, the old man kneeling at his side.

'Are you a physician?' Arthur asked him quickly. A flicker of sadness passed through the man's eyes and Arthur realised that this man was someone he should know.

'Yes, Sire. I'm Gaius,' he nodded. 'What happened to him?'

'I don't know. We split up and this is what he was like when he came back. I tried to bandage the wounds.'

'What knocked him unconscious?'

'Nothing in particular. I think it's something to do with his magic. He seemed weakened when we faced Morgana.'

'You fought Morgana?' a knight asked in shock.

'She's dead,' Arthur nodded. A sudden silence fell on the group. Arthur wondered how long Morgana had been tormenting and terrorising Camelot that some of the best warriors in the kingdom struggled to accept that she was actually gone.

'Merlin killed her?' the physician asked.

'No, he couldn't,' Arthur explained. 'It was Kilgharrah; he saved us.'

More silence, and then hushed voices as Gaius continued with his work. The knights began off-loading the supplies that were strapped to Kilgharrah, while the boys hovered some distance away, talking intently, looking over at Merlin frequently and then back to each other. Arthur wanted to know what they were talking about, but he moved towards Kilgharrah first.

'Thank you,' he told the creature. 'We would be dead by now without you.'

'You still have a destiny to complete together,' he murmured in a low growl, which Arthur was sure everybody could hear.

'I don't know if that will be possible,' Arthur said quietly. He glanced over at Merlin; he was unmoving, and the faces of those around him were grave. 'Can you do anything to help him or to save him?'

'If I could, I would,' Kilgharrah said, 'but my magic is not as easily controlled as that of humans such as Merlin. I am more valuable as a guide and a sharer of knowledge. It is Merlin who then uses it. I am sorry, young King, but I have done all I can.'

'You're going?' Arthur asked, trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

'The final part of your plan will be reinitiating the magic that Morgana used to bring the young warlock and Prince to this time; I would only interfere with the magic that will be formed.'

'But we can't do anything without Merlin; he's not even conscious.'

'Then it is fortunate indeed that you have a second Merlin on whom you can rely,' he replied with what passed for a smile; his knife-like teeth appearing behind stretched lips.

'What?' Arthur asked, but Kilgharrah had already spread his wings and jumped into the air. It was only a few seconds later that Arthur noticed the two other people that had been spectators to his conversation with the dragon.

'I can help,' said the dark haired boy who stood only a few feet behind him. They stood, both of them, looking at him with drawn, haunted faces, looking so much older and younger at the same time.

'I know you want to,' Arthur replied gently, 'but you're not powerful enough.'

'He doesn't need to be,' the Prince said. 'Before we got to the gorge, Merlin told us that he'd already set up all the spells, remember? He said there was just one needed to start it all going.'

Arthur tried to remember the conversation, but nothing came to mind. He barely remembered the flight over to the gorge. It was all he could do to keep in mind that they were trying to send the boys back to their correct time and that Merlin was the key to providing the magic. Everything was becoming unreal, like waking up and forgetting a dream. His memories of the last week were beginning to fade to the edges of his consciousness, soon they would be gone.

'Aright,' he nodded. 'Do you know the spell?'

'Merlin said he had it on him with the pendant,' the Prince explained. They rushed over to the warlock who lay on the ground being treated. Arthur followed them and felt a jolt of fear shoot through him as he realised that the man on the floor didn't look as familiar as Arthur knew he should have done. He looked away, trying not to think about it, while the Prince quickly searched through the dark haired man's clothing and retrieved a pendant and a scrap of parchment.

'This is it,' he said triumphantly, grinning at Arthur and then walking over to Merlin and handing them both over to him.

'What is it?' Arthur asked. Two sets of eyes looked at him in confusion.

'The pendant,' Merlin explained. 'The one Morgana used.'

'Morgana?' Arthur asked. He shook his head and then put both his hands in his hair. What was happening to him? He knew that he should have known those things. He focussed hard. Morgana? Morgana was…a witch. Nodding firmly, he lifted his head and put his arms back down to his sides. He could do this. Morgana was the witch who had tried to kill him and at the moment they were trying to send a younger version of himself and someone else back in time.

'Do you remember?' the Prince asked, while the dark haired boy mouthed the words on the parchment.

'I remember enough,' he nodded. 'You need to hurry.'

The dark haired boy opened his mouth, but a look of panic suddenly crossed the Prince's face.

'No! Wait, wait!' he shouted.

'What?' the other boy asked.

'Our memories. We can't go back with them?'

'I don't know how to get rid of them.'

'We have to loose them somehow. We have to!' the Prince seemed to be getting more and more agitated as the seconds went by. Arthur wanted to intervene, but he didn't know why. He looked around. Where was he? Who were all these people?

The Prince. The Prince he remembered; a younger version of himself. The boy was looking wildly around and then fixed on a point just behind them where a group of people were crowding round a man who seemed to be ill. The Prince rushed over, followed by the other boy, who Arthur assumed was the Prince's friend. A strange compulsion to follow them overtook Arthur and he jogged to where they had both fallen to their knees around the seemingly unconscious man. The man looked very similar to the dark haired boy. Father and son perhaps? No. Arthur shook his head. That didn't seem right.

'Please, Merlin!' the Prince was saying, shaking the man's shoulder.

'Arthur, why is it so bad to remember?' the other boy asked, his voice full of sadness or disappointment.

'It isn't, not all of it,' he explained hurriedly, his focus never leaving the unconscious man – Merlin, if Arthur had heard correctly. 'But I don't want to remember Morgana and what happened to her. She's my friend, Merlin. My friend! She's good where I come from, and kind.'

Arthur closed his eyes, trying to work it out. Both of them were called Merlin? The child-Merlin held the Prince's gaze for several seconds; he seemed so sad, but understanding at the same time. He reached over a hand and rested it on the Prince's shoulder.

'I wouldn't want to remember that either,' he smiled sadly.

'Please help me to wake him up.'

Together, the boys began talking to the man, encouraging him to wake up, pleading with him. The physician watched sadly. He was doing very little to try and stop them and he was no longer treating the man's injuries, which suggested to Arthur that the patient didn't have much time left. It seemed a shame to the King that this man couldn't see how important he was to the two children. It was obvious that they trusted and believed in him above any other. He wondered what it was like to be able to put that much faith in a person.

'You try.'

Arthur was pulled out of his musings by the voice of the Prince.

'What?'

'Please,' the boy begged, 'you try. If anyone can do it, it will be you.'

'I don't even know him,' Arthur replied incredulously.

'What?' The dark haired boy this time: fearful, unsure.

'I've never seen him before in my life,' the King explained. Not that he seemed to be able to recall anything of his life at this point, but it didn't bring the alarm he was sure it should have done.

'What are you talking about?' the Prince demanded. 'It's Merlin! Your friend. You know him better than anyone!'

'I've never seen him before.'

'We're running out of time,' the old man said to the boys. 'His memories are gone.'

'We can't go back if we remember,' the Prince argued. He got to his feet and walked over until he was right in front of Arthur and then he knelt down on one knee. Arthur was surprised by the move. Why would anyone kneel before him?

King. The word echoed around Arthur's head. Yes, that was right: he was the King.

'Please,' the boy began, his voice shaking with tears and his eyes glimmering in the dull light. 'Even if you don't remember him, you need to try and wake him up. Ask him to use magic and take away our memories since we arrived here. That's all you have to do.'

Magic? Somewhere, something stirred in Arthur; an ugly monster that lurked at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away, disliking the darkness of it. Magic? He didn't know anything about it.

'Arthur,' the Prince begged.

Arthur looked at the boy and saw the desperation in his every movement. He glanced round at the rest of the group. They were staring at him, shock on their faces. Was it so terrible and unbelievable that he should forget the man lying on the ground in front of him? The man who, in all likelihood, wasn't going to last much longer anyway? Arthur looked at him again, but nothing sparked any familiarity in his mind.

But surely, all these people couldn't be wrong?

'Alright. I'll try.'

'Thank you, thank you,' the blond boy nodded and then moved aside so that Arthur could get passed.

Slowly, Arthur made his way to the man and then knelt down beside him. The physician got up, looking older and wearier than he had done when he first started treating his patient, and the two boys took his place opposite Arthur.

Feeling somewhat stupid, Arthur reached out a hand and placed it on the man's slow-moving chest. A strange sensation began to flow through him, like déjà vu, but deeper and more powerful. It shocked him and confused him, but it gave him a sudden understanding of the situation and the person in front of him.

'Merlin,' he said quietly, and the name felt familiar on his tongue. There was no movement. 'Merlin,' he said more loudly, forcing some authority into his voice. The smallest stirring caused the man's face to crease up and slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes began to open. Arthur looked at him and felt a strange connection that he couldn't explain or break. Their eyes locked and although Arthur still didn't know who the man was he felt like he had known, or maybe could know in the future. Like hearing a story about a childhood event and knowing that it happened, but not remembering it.

'I need you to take away the memories of these two children since they arrived here.' He didn't understand the words that were coming out his mouth and it was evident that the man, Merlin, didn't either, but he gave a slight nod and then turned his attention to the boys.

'Start the spell,' Arthur heard the Prince whisper to the other boy. He nodded and, grasping the pendant in his hand, recited the words of the parchment out loud.

For several seconds, there was nothing more than an eerie silence, the only sounds those of the dying man taking some deep breaths in an attempt to give himself the energy to lift his hand ready for casting the spell. But then a low hum began to resonate in the ground, as if the entire earth was shuddering.

'Arthur.' Arthur looked over to where the Prince had called to him. 'Thank you,' he said.

'Thank you,' the other boy agreed. 'You'll know why when we're gone. Thank you,' he repeated, nodding towards the man, who had now sat up slightly, with help from the physician. The Prince echoed those sentiments to the dark haired man.

'Goodbye,' the two of them whispered together.

Beside Arthur, the man was beginning to speak, his eyes burning gold. The two boys turned to each other and Arthur felt compelled to watch their exchange; it seemed so personal, so deep. So final. They said nothing, just looked at each other, seemingly understanding whatever unspoken message was being given. And then they moved closer and enveloped one another in an embrace, holding tightly.

The humming in the earth had turned into what felt like a low pitched cry, and light was beginning to rise from it, creating a flimsy film of brightness about a metre from the ground. The pendant, which had been clutched in the other boy's hand, was now resting on the film of light, shimmering with it, beginning to shine. The light flowed in and around it, as if trying to become part of it, before then rushing off again. Arthur watched it all in slow motion; saw every twist of light, every movement of the two boys, heard every strained word from the man beside him.

And then suddenly, the man's voice gave a last desperate cry as the spell finished and then slumped back down to where he had been lying before; moved gently by the physician. Arthur saw the spell hit the boys. For a second they tensed and froze and then, with a sudden relaxation, began to fall away from one another, unconscious, unaware. Arthur felt the urge to go and catch at least one of them, but with a flash like lightning, the light that had been a flat pool of twisting colours, imploded and rushed into itself to form a sphere; the boys in the middle of it, suspended in the air, their heads lolling and their arms hanging limply at their sides. The pendant dropped to the floor

Suddenly, the light in the clearing intensified and Arthur had to shield his eyes, as did the others who were gathered in the clearing, watching what was happening in awe-filled amazement. The light grew brighter and more painful, but Arthur fought through it and kept his gaze fixed on the sphere. The boys were glowing with light, like white fire. As Arthur watched, he saw the light begin to twist away from them, taking them apart. Their figures unravelled and curled away in strips of bright light, becoming indistinct and changeable, until there was just light swirling inside the sphere, and then an explosion of intense brightness and then nothing except for a powerful force pushing them back. The knights who had been standing were sent flying backwards and Arthur found himself being flung to the floor.

But he barely noticed. Instead, he gripped his head in his hands and screamed; his voice seeming to mix with another close by, as memory after memory seemed to blossom and flourish in his head with such power and force that it felt like his mind was being sliced into pieces by sharp blades of thought and emotion and feeling. He drew breath only to cry out as his entire life streamed through his head, every memory going so fast through his mind that he was unable to gain more than an impression of each one. People and places and situations hurtled through his mind, slamming into place as the jigsaw of his life began to fit back together.

His childhood. Games played, falling outs with friends, servants and training and his father never being around. Then older, and his father always being around; having to try and live up to the man's expectations. Battles and fights, quests, missions, loosing loved ones, grief, betrayal, love. Guinevere, marriage. Magic and hatred; magic and understanding. Laughter and boiling anger; compassion and coldness. Illness, healing, mistakes, hurts, regrets, hopes, terrible fears. Darkness and light. Lessons learnt, lessons taught; relearning. Trust and Merlin. Loyalty and Merlin. Friendship and Merlin.

Merlin.

Arthur opened his eyes and took several gasping breaths as all of his memories settled into their rightful places. There were tears running down his face and his heart was hammering as if he had just been running for his life, but he was lying where he had been thrown down as the sphere disappeared.

He pushed himself up, managing to pull himself into a sitting position. A smile graced his face.

He could remember. His memories were back; they had done it; they had succeeded; they were safe.

Arthur looked across to where Merlin was and felt a deep darkness encase his heart at what he saw. Gaius was holding Merlin's wrist, checking for a pulse. Seconds later he moved forward and put his ear to Merlin's mouth. He moved back slowly, his head dropping and his eyes squeezing tight shut as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Arthur felt his entire being shudder with shock. Because this was no longer the unknown man that Arthur could look at and feel nothing. This was a remembered Merlin, a remembered friend: loyal and trustworthy and devoted.

Arthur felt a silent scream echo through his mind, through every memory that had so recently been gratefully reclaimed.

This was where remembering brought nothing but pain.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	31. Chapter 31

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you so much for all your reviews. I haven't had anywhere near that many for any of the other chapters and so it was a lovely surprise. I can't believe it, but here is the last chapter! There will also be an epilogue, so you haven't got rid of me just yet. Anyway, on with the chapter; all your questions will be answered. Hope you like it! Please review!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 31<strong>

'No!' Arthur said firmly, scrambling over to where Merlin lay. 'Gaius, do something, now!'

'Sire-'

'I said do something,' he repeated sharply. Gaius looked at him, not bothering to try and reply, evidently knowing that Arthur would only shout him down. Instead, he did something much worse. He reached over and placed a hand on top of Arthur's. A hand which Arthur hadn't realised he had placed on Merlin's chest. Arthur met Gaius' gaze and saw the truth in the man's eyes; saw the pain and the grief already beginning to grow, leaving a mark that would remain for the rest of his life.

'No,' Arthur muttered. 'This can't…'

He looked around and recognised the knights that had been around him. Of course, now it seemed so obvious which knights would be here in the clearing for him. The grief was beginning to carve into their features. Gwaine looked on helplessly before giving a yell of anger and denial and then moving away from the group. No-one tried to follow or stop him. They all just looked on in shock: Leon, Elyan, Percival.

'This can't be it,' Arthur said to Gaius, shaking the man's hand off and fixing him with a hard stare. 'This is Merlin. This is…' he tailed off, his throat closing up. 'He's strong,' he tried again a few seconds later. 'He's strong, Gaius.'

'His heart has stopped,' he replied in a whisper.

'Then start it again!' Arthur shouted. 'You have magic Gaius; just tell it to start again. Make it beat.'

'Sire...'

'Please, Gaius,' Arthur continued, reaching over and gripping the man's hand. His gaze was intense and he could hear the pleading in his voice. He placed the older man's hand down over where Merlin's heart was. 'We did it; we made sure history stayed the same, we sent them back. He can't die now. He doesn't die now,' he repeated more firmly. 'Just tell his heart to beat, or make it beat; just try, Gaius, please.'

'Arthur, my magic is limited.'

'Then use whatever you have. I'm ordering you Gaius. This is not how it finishes.'

Arthur saw the faces around him -all of them- watching him with pity and worry. And Gaius most of all, although he thought he saw something like understanding on the old man's features as well, which was lacking in his knights. As much as they cared about Merlin, as much as they were his friends and allies, they couldn't understand the loss of the two men that were crouched down beside Merlin's frame. They weren't loosing a son and they weren't loosing a brother.

'Please,' Arthur whispered to him. 'I can't walk away unless I know we tried everything.'

'Neither can I, Sire,' Gaius returned, a resigned acceptance winding its way through his tone.

For several seconds, Arthur watched the physician close his eyes and take several deep breaths, his hand hovering over Merlin's still chest. The impatience grew in Arthur. How long had it been now since Merlin had drawn breath? They were running out of time, if they hadn't done so already. But eventually Gaius began to speak. The words were hushed and quiet and Arthur could hear the desperation in them. He looked away and instead focussed on Merlin's face, allowing his returned memories to well up in his mind; making sure that all that had been lost had been put back. They had. Each and every memory was there, as they had been before.

But it wasn't enough, Arthur realised. It wasn't enough to have memories of Merlin in the past and in times that were now over and done with, never to be revisited again. No, that wasn't nearly enough. What Arthur needed was the guarantee that in years to come he would be able to look back and find more memories of his friend and what they had accomplished together; times when they had messed around; times when they had learnt something new about themselves or each other. It wasn't enough to only have the past. He had fought for the last week to ensure that there was a future as well. There had to be a future for Merlin.

He scanned the man's face again, but there was no change. Gaius' hand still hovered above his still form, moving rhythmically up and down as he muttered words; as if he was pressing down on the air above it. Arthur realised that Gaius' other hand was doing the same above Merlin's mouth. For a split second, Arthur felt joy jolt through him as he saw Merlin's chest begin to rise and fall, but a shake of the head from Gaius told Arthur the truth: Merlin wasn't breathing; Gaius was doing it for him, forcing air into his lungs using magic. Still, it gave him the appearance of recovery and so Arthur waited. Waited desperately and pleadingly. Waited.

But there was no change, except for that which took place in Gaius' face; the last bit of hope that the man had held on to was fading –had already faded. He wasn't carrying on for Merlin's sake; he was carrying on for Arthur's. Normally, Arthur would have hated knowing that someone was telling him what he wanted to hear -one of the many things that he admired Merlin for was never telling Arthur what he wanted to hear if it wasn't the truth. But right now, Arthur was going to feign ignorance. If it bought him more time with an illusion of Merlin breathing and waking and living then he didn't care how long Gaius continued.

'Sire…' Elyan's gentle voice broke through his concentration.

'No,' he replied, not bothering to turn round.

'Arthur,' he tried again.

'I said no,' he growled back. He sensed the knights, all of them, move back a little way. They were giving him privacy, the chance to say goodbye. Gaius hadn't stopped what he was doing –Arthur could still hear his whispered spells- but he was slowing down, whether through choice or through the exhaustion of grief, Arthur didn't know, but it told him that time was almost up.

'Merlin,' he whispered harshly, putting his mouth closer to the man's ear. 'Wake up.' Nothing. No sarcastic comment; no half concealed sigh of annoyance. 'Please wake up,' he tried, his voice becoming quieter, more desperate. He didn't want anyone to overhear him, didn't want anyone to see, because he could feel himself beginning to break. He could feel the cracks spreading across the surface of his skin, little slithers of panic and disbelief and uncertainty which began to burrow into his mind.

This couldn't be happening. He tried to look ahead to the future, but it was like a blackness. If Merlin wasn't there helping him and guiding him, then how was he supposed to rule as King? If Merlin wasn't there sharing his wisdom and perspectives, then how was Arthur meant to make the right decisions? If Merlin wasn't there to blatantly disregard rank and protocol and propriety, then who was going to keep Arthur grounded when he walked down the wrong path? Yes, Guinevere was there and he loved her and relied on her, but when it came down to it, he was there to protect her and keep her safe; to be strong when she was struggling.

She had walked with him through his kingship; they had faced their new roles as reigning monarchs together; working out their places and their responsibilities. But Merlin had been there for years before that. Merlin had persisted with him when he was an arrogant, naïve Prince; a bully and a thug. Merlin had been on the receiving end of that particular aspect of Arthur's character hundreds of times over the years, but he had stayed and endured.

He had been so patient with Arthur in so many ways: waiting for Arthur's views on magic to change; waiting for him to grow up and learn the value of humility. Waiting for Arthur to realise that he wasn't an idiot servant, but a good wise man who saw things so much more clearly than Arthur did a lot of the time. Merlin had waited for all those things with enduring patience and loyalty, and sometimes, Arthur guessed, with a resigned desperation, just hanging onto the destiny that he had been told he was part of.

Arthur had faced every major event and decision with Merlin by his side. He had faced betrayals, hurts, grief, changes, all of them, with his friend right next to him at every step, even when Arthur hadn't asked for the companionship or been grateful for it. Merlin had felt every hurt; seen every tear, even the ones Arthur had tried to hide. He had shouldered responsibility for Arthur's many mistakes and been a touch stone every time Arthur felt at a loss.

No. He couldn't do this without Merlin. All the reasons why that were true were circling around his mind, pouring down through his body, breaking it apart from the inside. He could feel the dread and grief ripping away at his insides, gnawing at him, until every muscle in his body was tensed. Yet there was nowhere to hide; nowhere to run to; nothing to fight. He could do nothing to stop this from happening and that knowledge was shattering him from the inside out.

'Merlin,' he tried again, leaning even closer to the man. 'You probably already know this, and I think I must have known all along.' He closed his eyes and laid a hand on Merlin's head. 'I can't do this without you.' Looking at Gaius, Arthur saw the old man squeeze his eyes shut in defeat and shuffle back a few inches, his hands reaching down to grasp one of Merlin's. Arthur carried on, more urgently now. 'I know you don't follow my orders, Merlin, but this isn't an order anymore.' Merlin's chest sank down, Gaius' last breath of air leaving his body. 'I'm asking you, my friend: please wake up.'

* * *

><p>He didn't have to do anything. He just lay there, letting everything go on around him. Everything seemed fine without him having to get involved. It was peaceful and calm. Except for that voice. No, the voice definitely wasn't calm, but it was quiet and so Merlin ignored it and instead revelled in the fact that it didn't hurt anymore. He was glad, especially as he could remember it hurting a lot. He thought about trying to remember why, but realised that he didn't care all that much; all that mattered was that he didn't have to do anything, just lie there and be still. He was good at it.<p>

The peace around him enveloped him further; he sank into it, until everything else seemed to become muffled and distant. Perfect. But then that voice started again, loud in his ear. Had he wanted to move, he would have frowned, but it was easier to continue letting himself be swallowed up by the gentle nothingness.

Still the voice continued; urgent and pleading. It irritated Merlin, especially when he realised that it was drawing him out of his comfy oblivion. The words were becoming clearer, not just odd sounds as if someone was speaking through thick walls. Panic swept through Merlin as he realised that it was beginning to hurt again. He didn't want that anymore; he just wanted to sleep and rest, even if it was forever.

'…can't do this without you.' Merlin tried to ignore the words, but they had brought him to a sharper awareness than anything he had experienced in the last few minutes. He tried to ignore them, but something in the tone refused to relinquish his attention. To his annoyance, he found himself trying to place the owner of the voice. Surely that would only bring him back to reality even quicker. Before he could switch his thoughts to something less taxing, he found familiarity rushing through him. That was Arthur. Of course it was. Who else would be able to annoy him at a time like this? The thought sent a rush of amusement through him and he found himself trying to smile, but it didn't work.

That alarmed him. Why couldn't he move?

'I know you don't follow my orders, Merlin, but this isn't an order anymore.' Arthur's voice was closer, but Merlin was distracted again. Something had changed; something was different. Up until now, a rhythmic hum had surrounded him. Comforting, predictable, sustaining. And then suddenly it was gone. There was no pressure on his chest, no feeling of subconscious movement in his body. He was still. Completely and utterly still.

Dying. He realised it suddenly. He was dying. His mind snapped to full focus. Everything came back to him. All that had happened. Those last confusing moments when he had sent the boys back not having a clue who they were or what he was doing, but acting on instinct. He had been injured, drained. There was nothing left for him to give. But then, did he really want to give anymore? He had done what he set out to do. He had sent the boys back; Arthur was safe; history was correct; the future was assured. There was no need for him to go back, even if he could.

'I'm asking you, my friend: please wake up.'

Merlin had only ever heard Arthur use that tone of voice on a few occasions. It was the one he used when all other options were gone. When his ability to fight was of no consequence, when there were no arguments or explanations he could give. All he could do was ask and hope. It was in those times that Merlin most took on board what Arthur was saying and doing. Those few times when Arthur completely and utterly let his guard down. And he was doing it now; the Arthur who was crouched beside Merlin was vulnerable; he had no defences left. Just the hope that Merlin would hear him and do as he asked.

When it came down to it, there was no question of what Merlin would do. He and Arthur were friends; they relied on one another and they were always there for one another. And while Merlin didn't agree that Arthur still needed him in order to be to be a good King, he didn't want to miss seeing it.

His mind made up, Merlin climbed the rest of the way out of his oblivion, now fully aware of everything that was going on around him. But still he couldn't move. Try as he might, he couldn't get his muscles to obey him.

'It's been too long, Sire,' he heard Gaius say; the old man's voice quiet and cracking.

'How could this happen?' Arthur was asking. His voice, too, tripped unevenly over the words, before Merlin heard him take a deep shuddering breath; sucking it in heavily, before expelling it in an angry denial.

'No!' he yelled. Merlin heard the sound of fists hitting the ground. He tried again, tried to get his eyes to open, just so his friends could see that it wasn't all over. But he couldn't. Surely this wouldn't be how everything finished for him: one last failed attempt before his body ran out of air and was forced to shut down everything, including his mind. Would the last thing he ever heard really be Arthur shouting and then sinking into barely concealed cries? That wasn't good enough.

Pushing aside his panic, Merlin tried one last thing to bring himself back to life. It was the only thing he had at his disposal that didn't rely on his ability to move. His magic. That was all he had left. He reached into the place inside of himself where it resided, but it was drained. After his escape from the gorge, facing Morgana and erasing the memories of their younger selves, there was barely anything left. Evidently magic didn't replenish itself in a dead host. There was a tiny amount, but it would not be enough. He used his senses, magical and physical, to take in his surroundings, looking for anything that could help. And then he felt it.

The pendant. It lay only a few metres away, still steeped in the magic that had been used to send the boys back. Powerful magic. Enough magic.

With the last bit of magical strength that he possessed, he reached for the object, lifted it off the ground and pulled it close to himself. He heard the voices around him.

'Arthur!' Leon called. 'Look!

A pause while Merlin pulled it closer.

'What's happening?' Arthur asked, 'Gaius, what's happening?'

Merlin continued to draw it in, but his power was fading, running out, disappearing. He tried to use the last bit of strength to fling it towards himself, but the pendant fell short, only a few inches from his body; it was the last thing he sensed before his magic was gone.

That was it then. He felt a deep sadness permeate his being; felt his body begin to shut down. He had tried and it hadn't been good enough. He allowed himself to slip away, but just as the last vestiges of his consciousness were fading, he felt and heard something around him.

Scrambling bodies, confused voices. And then he felt it; a tiny diamond of ice and cold and power rushing through him as a hand grabbed his own and pushed the pendant into it. He felt his fingers being closed around it, felt the way its magic rushed through him, replenishing his stores until he felt the power was his to command again. Without any further hesitation, he forced the magic into his body, into his heart and lungs, into every part of it, until he felt like there was a fire billowing from every surface. And then, just as quickly, the fire subsided, the pendant dropped from his hands, depleted and useless. Hardly daring to hope, Merlin told his body to breathe.

And it did. He felt his chest rise, felt the blood rush through him, and finally, he opened his eyes. Arthur's face, bright with hope and crusted with tears, swam into focus.

Through the pain that had returned with a vengeance, and through the exhaustion that had almost overtaken him, Merlin managed to smile.

'I'm awake,' he croaked. He saw Arthur close his eyes in relief, before placing a comforting hand on Merlin's shoulder.

'About time too,' Arthur breathed, smiling at him. His face sobered, the full severity of the situation settling on him again. 'Thank you,' he whispered.

'For waking up like you asked?'

'For everything,' Arthur replied.

* * *

><p>Please review.<p> 


	32. Chapter 32

**Past and Present Danger**

* * *

><p>AN: No, I was never going to kill Merlin. How could I? He's Merlin! Anyway, thank you so much for all your lovely reviews. I've had a great time writing this story and I really appreciate all of you who've left feedback. It really does make a difference. I figured I might as well upload the final chapter now, as it's written and ready to go, rather than making you wait .

I've got a new story idea buzzing around my mind at the moment, although it's not properly fleshed out yet, so I'll have to mull it over for a bit longer before I upload anything. I've got about 4000 words written though, so as long as I manage to get some more done over the next few days, it might be on sometime next week –no promises though! The title is '**Hidden Motives**', so keep an eye out.

Well, on with the very last instalment of Past and Present Danger. I really hope you enjoy it and reviews would be great! Thanks again.

Laura

x x x

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

Arthur left the Council meeting quickly. It had been long and arduous. Every single person in there had already known what had gone on with their younger selves and Morgana -the rumours had spread through the entire city in a matter of hours- so why did he have to repeat it all? Of course, there had been some slightly incorrect accounts of event, the most bizarre of which was that Merlin had turned himself into a dragon and had been the one to fly them back and forth to find Morgana. Arthur had quickly corrected that misconception, but had then had to explain the fact that Merlin was a Dragon Lord, which until then had been one of the only remaining secrets that the Council didn't know. That had taken more explanation than Arthur really would have liked, but he had finally escaped his kingly duties.

He turned the corner, meaning to head to Merlin's chambers and fill him in on all he had missed, but instead he found himself heading towards the battlements, wanting to get away from everyone for a while. In all likelihood, Merlin would be sleeping anyway. He had done that a lot in the three days since he had all but died in the clearing. With several cracked ribs, a huge gash in his head and an ankle he could barely walk on, Arthur supposed he did have the right to sleep in a little more. Not to mention that fact that he had saved all of their lives again.

So it was with surprise that Arthur walked onto the battlements to find Merlin leaning over them, his elbows crossed in front of him, staring out over Camelot.

'You mean to tell me,' Arthur called, causing Merlin to jump and turn round, 'that I just sat through that Council meeting on my own, while you were up here taking in the view?' He stopped as he came to stand beside Merlin. The warlock grinned and stood up, no unease in his posture, no grimace of pain at the movement. 'I thought you were ill in bed!' Arthur said incredulously.

'Well excuse me for finally managing to focus long enough to heal myself with magic,' Merlin returned.

'Well then, as a completely healthy member of the Council I'm sure you could have found your way to the meeting rather than up here.'

'I didn't really want to,' Merlin shrugged, that infuriating grin still on his face. Arthur shook his head and gave Merlin a friendly shove before they both moved to look out over the city. 'So, did I miss anything important?'

'Not really. Oh, but they do know you're a Dragon Lord now,' he added nonchalantly.

'What?' Merlin spluttered. 'I thought we were keeping that one under our belts; not letting on that we have a dragon at our disposal.'

'Trust me; it's better than what they were thinking before.' Merlin looked at him quizzically, but he just shook his head and laughed to himself. If that annoyed Merlin, he didn't let on.

They stood there in companionable silence for several minutes, watching the lives going on.

'I think I've remembered when it happened,' Merlin said quietly.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean I think I can remember when I got sent to the future.' Arthur looked at him, waiting for him to go on. 'There was one time when I was little. I'd been playing by the stream and then the next thing I knew, Will was dragging me out of the water, yelling for someone to help. I'd fallen in, but I had no memory of how it had happened.'

'So…?'

'I think when I got back to my own time I over balanced and fell in.'

'You: clumsy?' Arthur teased.

'Well what about you? Any idea of when it happened?'

'No,' Arthur sighed.

'Do you want to know?'

'I'm not sure, I suppose I-'

'No, Arthur,' Merlin interrupted. 'I mean it. Do you want to know?' Arthur frowned at him.

'Are you telling me that _you_ know?'

'Of course not, but all you need to do is remember.'

'Merlin, I know you think I like listening to you talk in riddles, but I really don't.'

'Sorry, I always forget that you can't handle anything too intellectual.'

'Merlin!'

The warlock laughed and then nodded in assent.

'Alright. It's simple really. Our memories of that week were erased.'

'I'm aware of that, Merlin,' Arthur sighed.

'I erased them,' he replied quietly, before turning to look at Arthur. In an instant, Arthur understood what he was saying. The implications raced through him and he stood up straight, turning to look at Merlin fully.

'Are you saying you could bring those memories back?'

'I was the one who cast the spell; it's easy enough to reverse it. If you want.'

Arthur considered it. He had seen most of what went on for his young self, but there were several things that were missing, and he could only guess at how the Prince –how _he_- had felt at certain points. He remembered seeing his young self face down on the floor in the forest, battling guilt; he remembered seeing the boy's reaction to Morgana's death.

'The Prince didn't want to remember those things,' Arthur said slowly.

'Does the King?' Merlin asked.

'Do you?' Arthur asked instead, avoiding the question.

'I think I understand more of what my younger self went through, what with the body swaps. I don't think I need to remember.'

Arthur nodded and looked back over the city. There were some good things: his missing memories held the recollection of his first meeting with Merlin; of their first adventure together; their first acts of friendship, but they also held Arthur's first act of betrayal.'

'I don't think I want to remember.'

'It wasn't all bad Arthur,' Merlin said softly. 'The Prince came through in the end.'

'You mean _I_ came through in the end.'

'Well,' Merlin sighed, 'you know how it is; you never get things right the first time round.'

'I'm serious, Merlin,' Arthur said quietly. Merlin sobered up at his tone and nodded in understanding.

'You don't have to remember. I don't have to bring them back.'

'What I did to you, Merlin…' he tailed off, suddenly feeling the shame that his younger self had felt when he had realised what turning Merlin over to Morgana had meant.

'The Prince came and apologised to me, Arthur; _you_ came and apologised. I forgave you,' Merlin shrugged. He turned so that he was facing Arthur. 'And if you need it: I still forgive you.'

Arthur nodded his thanks, feeling his throat closing up at Merlin's simple and easy forgiveness.

'Whether we remember or not,' Merlin continued, 'we still learnt all the lessons we needed by watching ourselves deal with it as children. Maybe that's all the memory we need.'

'What lessons did you learn?' Arthur asked, genuinely interested in Merlin's response and pleased that he could speak again without betraying his emotions.

'That we were always going to be friends eventually; that you always had the makings of a great King.'

'Makings that only came to the surface because of you,' Arthur pointed out with feigned irritation.

'Well we both know I'm the wise one, guiding you on your journey,' Merlin grinned. Arthur returned the expression, but both of them knew that he was right. 'What about you? What lessons did you learn through all of this?'

'Probably too many to count,' Arthur shrugged. He swallowed heavily and then glanced over at Merlin. His friend was listening with interest, no teasing in his eyes anymore. 'But there was one lesson that I learnt -probably the most important one.'

'Oh, yes?' Merlin asked. 'What was that?' He had picked up on the solemnity that had entered Arthur's tone and waited patiently for the reply. It took Arthur several seconds to continue. Not because he didn't want to tell Merlin, but because he wanted to make sure that his friend understood the truth in it.

'I learnt that I trust you, Merlin. I trust you completely. I trust your intentions; I trust your motives; I trust your advice.' He couldn't help but smile at the look of thanks and joy that spread across Merlin's face. 'I trust you,' he repeated simply.

Merlin said nothing, just nodded in response; for once at a loss for words.

They stood side by side, looking out over the city and all the land beyond. For now, the future was assured and it was theirs to shape as they saw fit.

Together.

**The End.**


End file.
